Anything You Can Do
by Fyre Farae
Summary: In order to promote unity between the houses the faculty at Hogwarts has decided to reassign students into different houses for a trial period. Who switches with who and what does this mean for Hermione and Draco? Read to find out.  Please review.
1. Chapter 1

Nine hundred and eighty two candles floated sporadically near the ceiling softly illuminating the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with a warm, cozy glow. Beneath the slowly burning candles four tables were situated parallel and equidistant from each other. An abundance of food ranging from stuffed pheasant and honey glazed hams, to greenbean casseroles and sweet potatoes, to plum puddings and fruit cocktails, to chocolate chip cookies and ginger snaps occupied the tables' surface. Pitchers of pumpkin juice, water, and sparkling cider were dispersed among platters of white bread, wheat bread, sour dough bread, and banana bread. Candy dishes filled to near over flowing containing Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean, licorice wands, and chocolate frogs were scattered about the length of the tables. The sheer weight of the food had the enormous wooden tables sagging slightly in the middle.

Ghosts milled about the room talking pleasantly to the students occupying the tables' benches. Each table somehow managed to support two hundred students all of whom jostled each other as they reached for whatever food or drink caught their fancy. A sea of green was seen at the far table with the Slytherin House banners flapping gently in a nonexistent breeze. Next to them the light blue of Ravenclaw's banners created a beautiful contrast that did not, unfortunately, extend to the two tables' occupants. Hufflepuff's yellow banners clashed horribly with Ravenclaw's, yet the occupants of their tables generally got along smashingly well, with the exception of lately. Above the far right table banners of maroon waved as boldly as the personality in which Gryffindors were so widely known for. A merry buzz of chatter filled the room as students talked amongst their tables, but the nasty looks shooting from one table to the next counteracted the usually happy atmosphere.

At the front of the room set upon a dais was another long wooden table at which the faculty of the school was seated. Among this table there were no smiles to be seen. Not even a slight upwards tilt were to be found on Dumbledore's lips. There wasn't a single twinkle in his eyes and somewhere along the way his laugh lines had morphed into worry lines. The head master made his way to the podium and cleared his throat. Silence reigned and every head in the room turned to face Dumbledore expecting him to begin his Thanksgiving feast.

Instead Professor McGonagall stood up, straightened her dress robes and clasped her hands together in front of her. "The Founders of our noble school  
Thought never to be parted:  
nited by a common goal,  
They had the selfsame yearning  
To make the world's best magic school  
And pass along their learning.  
"Together we will build and teach!"  
The Four good friends decided  
And never did they dream that they  
Might someday be divided,  
For were there such friends anywhere  
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?  
Unless it was the second pair  
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?  
So how could it have gone so wrong?  
How could such friendships fail?"

Next to her Professor Snape stood and faced the slightly confused student population.

"Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those  
Whose ancestry is purest."  
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose  
Intelligence is surest."  
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those  
With brave deeds to their name,"  
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,  
And treat them just the same."  
These differences caused little strife  
When first they came to light,  
For each of the four founders had  
A House in which they might  
Take only those they wanted.  
For instance, Slytherin  
Took only pure-blood wizards  
Of great cunning, just like him,  
And only those of sharpest mind  
Were taught by Ravenclaw  
While the bravest and the boldest  
Went to daring Gryffindor,  
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,  
And taught them all she knew,  
Thus the Houses and their founders  
Retained friendships firm and true."

Professor Sprout raised from her chair next adjusted her pointed hat and begun, " So Hogwarts worked in harmony For several happy years,  
But the discord crept among us  
Feeding on our faults and fears.  
The Houses that, like pillars four,  
Had once held up our school,  
Now turned upon each other and,  
Divided, sought to rule.  
And for a while it seemed the school  
Must meet an early end,  
What with dueling and with fighting  
And the clash of friend on friend  
And at last there came a morning  
When old Slytherin departed  
And though the fighting then died out  
He left us quite downhearted.  
And never since the founders four  
Were whittled down to three  
Have the Houses been united  
And they once were meant to be."

Professor Flitwick stood next, adjusted his spectacles and to the thoroughly dumfounded Hogwarts students said,

"And you all know the score:  
The sorting hat sorts you into Houses  
Because that is what it's for,  
But last year it went further,  
Did you listen closely to it's song:  
Though condemned it is to split you  
It worries that it's wrong,  
Though it must fulfill it's duty  
And must quarter every year  
Still it wondered whether sorting  
May not bring the end we fear.  
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
The warning history shows,  
For our Hogwarts is in danger  
From external, deadly foes  
And we must unite inside her  
Or we'll crumble from within I  
t has told you, it has warned you."

The silence was deafening. No few students let out breaths they weren't aware of holding. Dumbledore looked around the room making sure that every student felt as if they had made eye contact with him; several people blushed or looked away. "The faculty and I are very disappointed with the lack of interschool unity. In the history of Hogwarts the school has only been this divided two other times. The first of which occurred when Salazaar left and the second was when Voldemort came to power the first time. The hatred that is running rampant in this school is unacceptable. Thus, by an unanimous decision, we have decided to take measures that have only been used once before in the history of Hogwarts. When you come back from Halloween Break in one week you will be assigned to reside in another house until Winter Intermission. Your head of houses will meet you in your common rooms to give you further details. You are dismissed."

-0-0-0-0-0

"What are they playing at? Reassigning us into houses. There has always been rivalry between the houses." Ron Weasley complained shoving his hands in his pockets and scuffing his feet on the floor as everyone made their way from the great hall to their houses.

"True, there has been rivalry, but in the past it was at a healthy level. Now, however the animosity between houses is more harmful than beneficial. Already three quidditch matches have been called off partway through because the players were too busy throwing down to play. Twice between Gryffindor and Slytherin, which isn't too hard to imagine I suppose, but even once between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw is pretty hard to believe. There are so many students breaking the no magic in the halls rule by jinxing each other that even other prefects can't turn a blind eye to it and are taking points away from their own houses. I thought that the professors would try something to increase interschool unity, but I didn't expect they would take it this far." Hermione answered as she lead the Gryffindor's towards their tower. Behind her she could hear the murmurs of her classmates. It seemed the general consensus was that their future predicaments would not be pleasant ones.

"You don't think that they would make you switch too Hermione? I mean you're Head Girl. And speaking of quidditch I wonder how this will effect the teams and how houses are suppose to earn points for the house cup. I'll be right pissed off if I have to replace any of my players with someone from another team, especially any bloody slytherins." Harry added running one of his hands through his hair and looking rather grim at the prospect of losing the house cup. It had been rather fun to rub it in Malfoy's face that Slytherin had yet to win the cup since their coming to Hogwarts. Harry shot a look behind him noticing the grimace on the rest of the quidditch team's faces. Apparently he wasn't the only one worried about their favorite sport.

As the group reached the portrait of the Fat Lady Hermione spoke the password to open their door. Stepping over the threshold she could see Professor McGonagall already awaiting them. The rest of the students crowed in behind the Golden Trio to hear what their head of house had to say.

Professor McGonagall waited patiently for everyone to settle down and give her their full attention. Students bumped each other for the prime spots on the couch while others resigned themselves to standing or leaning on the arm rests. Clearing her throat she began, "As you all know this last year has seen a dramatic increase in hostility between the four houses. Now, more than ever, is a time for unity and cooperation. With the return of Voldemort we must have a united front and not waste energy with petty squabbles between ourselves.

"In order to promote this interschool unity you all will have to spend two months in another house regardless of year or rank. Therefore quidditch captains, prefects, and the head boy and head girl are not immune from this trial. The only exception to this is that at least one prefect will stay in the house to protect the interests of their housemates. Miss Granger since you are the head girl and therefore one of the biggest role models in the school you will exchange houses and Mr. Weasely will remain here. Ernie McMillen as head boy will also be switching as he is head boy. Names will be drawn out of this hat, "here she lifted up her green and black flannel hat for all to see "the name you draw will be the person whose spot you will take in their houses. Boys will replace boys and girls will replace girls. The drawing will work as such that only half of you will be switching houses while the other half will continue to stay here and live with the others that take your housemates' spots. If your name is drawn by another a piece of paper will float down to you letting you know who will be taking your place; however, you may not be taking theirs. For instance a Ravenclaw may draw your name, but you may draw a Hufflepuff. If someone draws your name you must draw a name. When roughly half of the house has been exchanged the names in my hat will disappear and those of you who have not drawn will not be changing houses. Are there any questions before we begin the drawing?" McGonagall paused and eyed the Gryffindors with a speak-now-or-forever-hold-your-peace look.

"The quidditch teams will be as they were before the switch, right?" Ginny asked nervously. The thought of having to play along side a Slytherin was a wilting thought. So much time and energy went into building team camaraderie that it would be near impossible to start working with new team mates at the same level they were currently playing at.

"The teams shall be as they are now and the tournament rankings are to remain the same as well." McGonagall answered. The entire team took in a sigh of relief. "I have grown rather fond of the trophy sitting in my office. I hope it shall remain there for quite some time." There were smiles all around and the tension in the room lessoned some.

"What about house points and the House Cup?" Neville Longbottom questioned. "Can the people taking our places lose points for us?" Worried looks spread like wildfire across the room at the potential damage something like that could pose. How easily would it be to sabotage the house you were reassigned too by purposefully breaking the rules…

"Points will be given and taken based on the original house. We don't want to create more problems than there currently are- paving the way for a saboteur would definitely create more problems than it would alleviate." The fire was quickly put out and the students relaxed a bit more.

"So then basically all we have to do is sleep in the other houses? This won't change our school schedules and we can still eat with each other correct?" The atmosphere in the room changed for the better yet again after Lavander's questions. Surely they wouldn't change their classes that could mess up their whole track!

"Your classes will remain the same, you may eat lunch with your original houses, and if you are on the quidditch team you may practice together, but everyone is required to spend at least four waking hours in your new houses. Curfew is ten o' clock and your hours must be completed before that time. The whole purpose of this trial period is to force you to get to know people in other houses and hopefully put any prejudices behind you. The future is starting to look grim and it is at this time that we need to be building a strong foundation of friendships so that when the times comes we may act as one against those that wish us harm. We cannot hope to defend ourselves from the Death Eaters if we are too busy fighting amongst ourselves. Now if there are no further questions let the choosing begin. Miss Granger if you will please start us off."

The professor held the hat out towards Hermione who walked towards it with trepidation. Her fingers were crossed and her silent mantra was, " Not Slytherin, please not Slytherin." It had worked for Harry so why not her? She reached in the hat and pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. Hermione deftly uncrinkled the paper and read the name written in curvy script: Millicent Bulstrode, Slytherin. "Bloody hell."

* * *

Disclaimer: Everything except the plot belongs to J.K. Rowling. The poem was sung by the sorting hat in the fifth book. I changed a little bit of the last part to fit my story. 

Does anyone know how to spell Ernie's or Minerva's last name? I'm moving so all of my books are in storage! If there are any other name misspellings please let me know so I can fix them.

Please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

"Damn bad luck there mate. What are you going to do?" Ronald Weasley asked of his friend Hermione Granger. They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room while the ever studious female rearranged her trunk to fit in a few extra books she had decided to bring home with her for some extra holiday reading. A merry blaze crackled in the fire pit and someone had conjured up miniature magical pumkins that chased each other around moaning and groaning. The cute decorations and cozy atmosphere did little to lighten the Head Girl's mood.

"There's not much I can do Ronald," she snapped at him her toffee colored eyes glaring into his. He took a tentative step back as she opened her mouth to verbally abuse him again. "I'm going to go home, snog the hell out of my unofficial boyfriend all week, and try my damndest to not think about having to spend two months in the hell hole the Slytherins have the gall to call a residence." Hermione slammed her trunk closed and slashed her wand in the air instantaneously sending her belongings to the train platform. She brushed past Ron and stormed out of the portrait hole. In her heart she knew it wasn't Ron's fault that she had to be the one to switch houses, but damnit, of all the bloody houses why did it have to be Slytherin? Hufflepuff would have been tolerable and Ravenclaw would have been more than satisfactory, at least there she would find herself among intellectual equals. But Slytherin?

She could see it now, the next headline of the Daily Prophet, authored by that horrible Rita Skeeter of course, **Mudblood Found Dead in Slytherin Common Room. **Out of everyone in the golden trio she would have the worst time in the solely pureblood house. Ron, though a so called blood traitor, was a pureblood and therefore had more standing than she did. No one would mess with the Boy Who Lived, but as for poor little mudblood Granger…well she wouldn't be letting her guard down that was for sure.

As they reached the bottom of the seemingly endless flights of stairs they heard running footsteps behind them. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the Boy Who Lived himself running towards them his robes billowing out behind him in his haste. Not stopping or slowing her pace to allow him to catch up she looked forward and set her jaw. Harry would be staying over the break with Ron and a good portion of the Order members. Though just as capable as many of them with a wand and better than most of them at remembering intricate spells and incantations, she had still been out voted and forced to go home for the break. Her eye twitched just slightly and she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Harry slung an arm around each of their shoulders when hey finally caught up with them, his breaths coming in quick little gasps. "You weren't going to leave without saying good bye were you Hermione?" When a small glare and his arm being shrugged off her shoulders was the only reply he received he sighed, "I'm sorry that you're upset about going home and I'm even more sorry that both Ron and I lucked out in the drawing and are able to remain in Gryffindor Tower, but Hermione we'll have to put with just as many people from other houses as you will."

Hermione unleashed her anger on him then her arms coming uncrossed to lay at her sides while her hands clenched and unclenched into fists. Her eyes looked as if they were about to spit sparks and the tick above her eye was twitching rapidly.

"Do not patronize me Harry James Potter. Everyone knows bloody well that you are not sorry that I am going home and if you truly regarded my feelings in the matter you would have voted with me. You and the Order keep shoving Ginny and I away to 'where it's safe', but I have news for you. NO WHERE IS SAFE! The demontors have joined Voldemort and freely run rampart where they wish. Death Eaters are no longer content going after aurors and are openly killing and torturing muggles. The safest place for me is Hogwarts or the Base -" Harry opened his mouth about to object, but before he could get a word in edgewise the enraged Gryffindor cut him off- "and yes I know that there are Death Eaters inside the school, I was there Harry fighting right along side everyone else last year. I am perfectly aware that many of the Slytherin students have decided to follow in the footsteps of their parents and have joined Voldemort."

By now they had reached the train station. Hermione stepped up on the train steps without giving either one of her friends a hug and continued on with her rant, "I'm the one that is practically going into the lion's den. Not either of you two. At least you'll be on your own turf so to speak. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a long train ride home and I plan on spending it trying to find a way of alerting the two of you to my distress should I need it while I'm sleeping with the enemy."

She pivoted on her heel and disappeared out of view her robes snapping in the air, a result of her haste to leave the two startled males. It wasn't often that Hermione's anger was directed at them, but when it was it wasn't a pretty sight to behold.

-0-0-0-0-

Halloween Break came and went faster than Hermione had thought possible. It seemed like only yesterday that she had left Ron and Harry staring at her retreating back at the train station at Hogwarts, but here she was on the Hogwarts Express racing towards the wizarding school.

Even though there were less than a fourth of the students on the train as there normally was Hermione, ever the responsible Head Girl, still did her rounds. There were the usual small tiffs between gryffindors and slytherins, but added to the list of incidents were small scuffles including hufflepuffs and ravenclaws. One poor second year hufflepuff girl was in tears because of a casually tossed out comment by a fourth year ravenclaw concerning the intelligence of those wizards that get themselves killed by the Death Eaters. The little girls parents had been killed a few months prior by Death Eaters because of a poorly performed protection charm. Instead of apologizing when the little girl's distress was explicitly shown the ravenclaw and his friends began to taunt her.

It was disgusting. Hermione had wrapped her arms around the little girl and pulled her close trying to soothe her. She had walked the little girl back to a compartment of hufflepuffs who took over consoling the little girl. Now she was stomping back towards the ignorant ravenclaws. She threw the door open startling the occupants of the car. "Ten points from Ravenclaw for the purposeful tormenting of a little girl." She pointed her finger at the fourth year who had began the taunting. When the others opened their mouths to argue Hermione cut them off. "Five more points from each of you, " here she waved her arms at the remaining occupants of the train car "for sitting by and doing nothing while a fellow student was in distress and for exacerbating the problem by joining in."

The enraged young woman glared at each of them in turn her disgust showing clearly on her face. She slammed the doors closed on the petulant teens and continued on her rounds. Soft giggling emanated from the one of the cars about ten steps ahead of her. A small smile of relieve flitted across her face. Laughter was becoming more and more scarce lately. With all of the horrible happenings lately there hadn't really been much to laugh about. Just as she was about to pass in front of the car containing the giggles the sound of her name stopped her. Looking up and down the small corridor she made sure there was no one there to witness her eavesdropping.

"You should have seen my Draky's face when that filthy mudblood Granger's name floated down in front of you Millie." Pansy Parkinson said leaning across the car to pat Millicent Bulstrode on the arm. "He looked about ready to _finite incantartum _something!"

"I can't stand the thought of having mudbloods or half bloods in our rooms tainting everything they come across with their dirty blood," another slytherin girl complained.

Leaning forward in her seat Pansy lowered her voice forcing the other girls to lean in closer and Hermione to stretch her hearing. Oh, how she wished for one of Fred and George's extendable ears right about now! "I heard that some of the boys were going to teach the exchanges a lesson on how to respect their superiors. A few already have plans to get Granger."

One of the girls scoffed, "Are they insane? Meddling with the Head Girl and a member of the Golden Trio to boot. That's just asking to be expelled."

"How do you figure? Our residence is in the dungeons after all. No one will hear her scream." Millicent Bulstrode went on to say something else, but Hermione didn't stay long enough to hear it.

Face pale and hands clammy she made her way to the Head's Car. Throwing herself into the plush seats of the train she sprawled out letting one leg and one arm drape over the edge of the bench and allowing her other arm to lay across her chest. She was glad now that she had worked so diligently over the break to come up with a way to contact Harry and Ron should she have need of them.

She twirled the silver identity bracelet she had bought over break around her wrist. She had bought two other matching ID bracelets for Harry and Ron. No one would question the Golden Trio having matching jewelry. The spell she had placed on them was an arduous one to perform even for her. Now the bracelets were all connected and could act as communication between her, Harry, and Ron. The bracelets fit snugly against their pulses. When one of them was in a heightened state of anxiety the bracelet would pick up on the dramatic increase of pulse and secretion of the fight or flight hormone. The other two bracelets would then begin to gently vibrate alerting the other two wearers that something was amiss. The faster the pulse and higher amount of hormone secretion the stronger the bracelet would vibrate until it resorted to sending increasingly stronger shocks. The bracelets would continue in this matter until the pulse returned to normal or stopped.

It grated against her pride that she might have to depend on their protection, but it was better to have a little bruised pride than a broken body or worse. Groaning she thought back to what she had just heard. She hadn't expected them to welcome her with open arms, but plotting to do something horrible to her was over the top. Now, not only would she have to be on constant guard for herself, but she would have to keep an even closer eye on the other exchanges than she had previously thought.

So far this little experiment of the professors was causing more problems than solving. Hermione performed a simple locking spell on the doors before rolling over and closing her eyes she tried to get some sleep. Hopefully it wouldn't be her last opportunity for a peaceful rest.

-0-0-0-0-

Harry and Ron sat on their respective four poster beds in their room in Gryffindor tower unwrapping their 'gifts' from Hermione. She stood at the foot of Harry's bed leaning against the bedpost watching them for their reactions. As she expected she received two baffled looks and stammered thanks.

Sighing the head girl instructed them to put them on and then explained their purpose and function. "Well, do they fit alright? I had to guess on your sizes."

"Mine fits great. But uhm Hermione, " Ron stammered his cheeks turning the shade of his hair " does this start to vibrate every time your pulse quickens? I mean say you were in an ahhhh an aroused state-"

"Unless your flight or fight instincts kick in when you're shagging Lavendar, then no you can get as 'aroused' as you want and neither mine or Harry's bracelets would be the wiser. You could be as nervous as a whore in church and the bracelet wouldn't pick up on it. The hormone secreted causing your fight or flight instincts is a necessary accompaniment to your heighten pulse rate in order for your bracelet to activate." Hermione's look was smug. " I took into account yours and Harry's extracurricular activities when I charmed the ID bands. Last thing I need is to come crashing into your dormitory, wand at the ready, expecting Death Eaters only to have my delicate sensibilities violated by seeing either of your bare butts in the air doings things I'd rather not think about. It ranks along the lines of walking in on my parents doing the deed. No thanks!"

Harry nearly choked and Ron's face, if possible, turned even more red than before. Hermione giggled at her friends and before long all three were clutching at their sides trying to contain their laughter.

Ron was just about to fall from his bed to roll around on the floor when Professor Dumbledore's voice sounded throughout the castle, " All students switching houses should report to those houses within the half hour. If the prefects would please escort their housemates to their new houses at this time it would be greatly appreciated."

"Well come on Ron lets get this over with." Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek before heading down the stairs with Ron in tow. They quickly rounded up all their housemates who would be switching houses and then lead them out of the portrait hole to their new 'homes'.

* * *

Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. 

Author's Notes: This is set in the sixth year. Some aspects of the story are compatible with HBP and some aren't.

I'm really disappointed by the lack of reviews the first chapter received and I'm wondering if there is anyone out there who is interested in reading this story of mine. Please people let me know what you are thinking. I don't think that my story is so horribly written or uninteresting that no one would want to read it, but I'm getting the feeling that perhaps it is. I can only become a better writer by getting feed back from readers. And there's really no point in continuing the story is no one is going to read it. So please please please review.

If I do get reviews asking me to continue the next chapter features Draco's appearance into the story.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione Granger had changed.

Her first and second year of Hogwarts she was quiet, shy, reserved, know-it-all Granger. She blushed and looked  
away when people made fun of her. When it got to be too much she would hide in the girls lavatory and cry. For awhile the closest 'person' she could call friend was the ghost of a girl who lived in a U-bend.

Her third year was when she started to change. Her third year was when she faced down a werewolf, helped an escaped convict from the wizard prison Azkaban avoid the Dementor's Kiss and recapture by the Ministry of Magic, and had battled Dementors. Her third year she gave those who tormented her dirty looks and even a few sly comebacks. And, if they really deserved it, she would even knock some sense into them, literally.

Her fourth year she dated the world famous Seeker Viktor Krum, had her personal life turned into a soap opera by one Rita Skeeter, and resorted to blackmail in order to clear her friend's name. That year she laughed aloud when her worst enemy was turned into a ferret and had no problems reminding him of the fact whenever he thought to plague her with his bigoted comments or his presence in general.

Her fifth year she organized a secret society with the express purpose of undermining the Ministry's interference at Hogwarts, was a major player in the downfall of Umbridge, and fought Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries along with other members of the D.A. She would have dearly loved slugging Draco Malfoy again, but just barely refrained from doing so because the consequences for starting trouble with the Inquisitorial Squad would have done more harm than good.

Thus far in her sixth year she had to deal with her friend going off on dangerous missions to destroy parts of Voldemort's soul. She had to be the voice of reason when her best friends thought it was a good idea to believe blindly in a book. As Head Girl and an official member of the Order of the Phoenix she had more responsibility and a lot more pressure to deal with than she had even a year ago. Uncertainty, anxiety, and fear ruled her summer after her sixth year at Hogwarts. Necessity had forced her to grow up even faster than she already had. She had brushed death and each experience only made her stronger. As she continued to live in peril her confidence in her intelligence and abilities increased exponentially and with it came a new attitude.

Hermione Granger had changed.

It was the new take no crap from anybody Granger who lead her fellow housemates into the Slytherin common room with her head held high, shoulders thrown back, and a look of complete confidence on her face. It was the new Hermione Granger that demanded that they be shown their new rooms. And it was the new Hermione that in no uncertain terms let everyone know that there would be hell to pay if anyone dared to injure any of the exchange students in any way, shape, or form.

Draco Malfoy hated this new Granger. If possible he hated her now more than he had any year prior to this one. Who did she think she was storming into his common room acting for all the world as if her filthy blood belonged amongst the pure, untainted blood of his and his peers? Standing there with all her housemates congregating around her, she truly resembled the Gryffindor Princess people referred to her as.

He sneered all the while taking her in from across the Slytherin common room. Apparently her attitude wasn't the only thing that had changed over the summer. Her hair was no longer bushy, but fell in waves to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Her freckles had disappeared and she now sported just the tiniest bit of makeup. For the first time in six years her clothes were the right size showing off her hourglass figure instead of hiding it under material twice her size.

So maybe he couldn't insult her appearance anymore without being a liar. The Gryffindor Princess could change her appearance all she wanted, but it wouldn't change the fact that underneath it all she still had tainted blood. No amount of make-up, hair products, or working out could transform her dirty blood into pure blood. Therefore she had no business mingling with the rest of them as if she were an equal.

He shook his head in disgust before turning his back on the Gryffindors and heading off down the hall towards his room. The air in the common room wasn't fit to breath anymore.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Hermione watched Draco shake his head and leave the room. One eyebrow lifted quizzically before she turned her attention to Pansy Parkinson who was explaining the house rules, as if they were any different from any other house's, but whatever she'd let Pansy bask in the limelight for a few moments. Tuning Pansy out the Head Girl took in her surroundings.

While the Gryffindor common room looked warm and inviting the Slytherin common room looked cold and dark, just like its denizens. The stone floor was devoid of any rugs, the chairs and couches were upholstered with black leather and looked uncomfortable. Not even the fire blazing nearly out of its grate looked inviting. Banners of green were draped along every wall and anywhere it was possible to carve the Slytherin Serpent was sure to be found. Even the legs of the chairs had been carved to look like snakes complete with a hissing tongue. A few desks lined two of the walls and in the back opposite two corners were two hallways each leading in a different direction. If she looked directly above her she could see out of the fishbowl glass into the green depth of the lake. It gave her the feeling of being closed off from the rest of humanity. Like if she screamed no one would hear…

Above the mantel was a five foot by three and half foot painting of Salazaar Slytherin. He was draped in elaborate emerald green robes accented with silver. His white beard was curled and reached his hips. The original head of Slytherin House was holding an intricately carved wooden staff in one hand with his wand raised ready to do battle in the other. A giant snake had wrapped itself around the wizard with its head resting just above its master's shoulder. The ancient wizard's lips were twisted into a sneer as if he had just smelled something foul. Above his hook nose were two beady eyes that seemed to pierce Hermione to the soul. A shiver went down her spine looking into the eyes of one of the nastiest, most powerful pureblooded wizards in history.

She returned her attention back to Parkinson who was finally stepping off her soap box. The pug faced girl nodded brusquely to a handsome dark haired man. Blaise nodded in acknowledgement and led the boys down one of the hallways that exited the common room from the back corner. Pansy led the girls down the other one. Hermione was happy to know that there would be one person from every house in a dorm room and that they would all be in the same year.

Hermione saw to it that all the girls got comfortable, well as comfortable as one could be in the slytherin house, before plopping down on her bed. A sour look crossed her face when she noticed that the comforter and curtains were slytherin green while her sheets and pillowcase were silver. The tiny snakes embroidered along the edges of the silk sheets elicited a snort out of the gryffindor. Did their vanity know no end? The rest of the houses were content with cotton sheets. She knew for certain that there weren't any lions prancing along the hems of her sheets. And if she wasn't mistaken it was goose down that gave the comforter on the bed its fluff. Nothing but the best and most expensive for the haughty slytherins.

She would have felt much more at ease sleeping in gryffindor crimson and gold and she assumed the others were probably of like mind. Seeing all four houses represented in one room would have been a site to see. Well, at least they weren't being forced to wear the Slytherin uniform. That would have been crossing the line.

Speaking of crossing the line she was surprised that Malfoy had managed to keep his trap shut. He never passed up the opportunity to make some uncouth comment with the intention of making the other students uncomfortable. She had kept an eye on him while he remained in the same room as her.

There was no denying that the boy was attractive. He had quit using gel in his platinum colored hair long ago allowing the silky looking locks to fall freely to about his ears the rest being trimmed in layers. His once harsh features had softened a bit making his face look less angular than it had in previous years. Malfoy's eyes were the kind that pierce someone to the soul. Their blazing silver depths had not changed, nor did she ever expect them to. As for his body, well, one could definitely tell that he was a quidditch seeker. Lean, yet muscular and he moved with an almost feline grace.

Alas, his devilishly good looks were his one and only redeeming quality.

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Author's Notes: For the time being please ignore book seven and parts of book six. Well we know what Draco thinks of Hermione and what Hermione thinks of Slytherins in general. Next chapter has them going head to head! 

Thank you very much to the six people who reviewed and to those of you who added this story to your alerts. I hope you all continue to review. And for those that haven't I hope you will. They are the only thing that keeps me writing.

It was pointed out that because Hogwarts is in Britain they wouldn't be celebrating Thanksgiving. That is completely correct, but for the timeline of this story we are going to pretend that they do Oh and it was mentioned that this was hard to read, I tried to change the spacing, but it isn't coming through any diffrently. Sry.


	4. Chapter 4

Lounging in one of the deceptively comfortable leather chairs in the Slytherin common room listening to the soothing crackle of the fire was the head girl. Staring up at the fishbowl ceiling she had an unhindered view of the murky depths of the black lake. Hardly an inspiring view. Her arms were crossed protectively over her chest, she was biting her lower lip and her eyebrows were furrowed, while absentmindedly swinging her left leg over the arm rest. Hermione Granger was brooding. Something wasn't right.

Already a week had passed and she hadn't had a single incident with Malfoy. Well, at least not a direct confrontation. There had been staring contests and an adamant refusal to be in the same room as one another if it could be at all helped, but that's where her interaction with the slytherin prefect ended. That wasn't to say that Hermione's week had been uneventful. Oh, no far from it. The head girl had already confiscated seventeen stink-bombs, fifteen dungbombs, fourteen slingshots, ten of the Weasley Wands that beat whoever tried to use them, seven Skiving Snackboxes sans the antidotes, three decoy detonators that were set to detonate on people, and one mystery object that just looked suspicious. Filch had cackled like a pirate tripping across forbidden loot when she had brought him the seized items.

So far she had multiple confrontations with Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy's two henchmen had taken a perverse delight in tormenting their 'guests', but Malfoy wasn't in the vicinity when any of those incidents had taken place. The gryffindor was positive that he had had a hand in it though, Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to be the mastermind behind all of them. Which meant that the Slytherin Prince was up to something. She wasn't sure what and the rumor mill had run dry as of late.

Hermione had avoided the dungeons. Ever since she had overheard Pansy and the other slytherin girls on the Hogwarts Express she had been worried about what kind of sick torture their god could come up with. She had half a mind to tell McGonagall, but what proof did she have? She had the word of Pansy Parkinson, a known exaggerator and tale spinner. Not exactly what one would call a reliable source. There was a feeling deep in her bones though that refused to let her play off Pansy's comments are a mere ploy to act better than she really was. Therefore, she had taken to avoiding the dungeons and warning all of the other non slytherin students away from there.

A rustle of clothing and soft footfalls brought her out of her contemplative state and back to an awareness of her surroundings. A stack of books dropped onto the coffee table in front of her chair. She drug her gaze away from the flickering red-orange flames crackling in the fire pit to see a white-blond head being supported by two hands with long slender fingers. Hermione's eyebrow lifted. Surely, Malfoy knew she was here? She quickly scanned the room making sure she wasn't a lamb tied to the stake surrounded by angry, approaching wolves. They were alone.

A small sigh escaped from the curtain of hair falling over the prefect's face. Now, Hermione's brows furrowed and once again she was biting her lower lip between her teeth. What on Earth could have happened to put the usually stoic young man into that state? The Gryffindor cleared her throat as softly as she could so as to be just barely audible. It was hard for the Head Girl to keep a small grin off her face when Malfoy's head snapped up at the realization that he wasn't alone and even harder for her to suppress a laugh from escaping her lips when his gaze met hers and his entire body went completely rigid. She hadn't known that she had that kind of an effect on the man.

Malfoy stood quickly and stooped over to pick up his books when her voice stopped him.

"What are you up to?"

A sly grin passed over his features as he sat back down on the couch. He kicked his feet up onto his stack of books in a nonchalant manner and slouched back into the green leather couch crossing his arms behind his head. "Why so curious about my social schedule all the sudden? Lonely?" His eyes slowly traveled the length of her starting at her eyes and making his way down to her toes obviously lingering when his gray gaze reached her breasts and the creamy expanse of thigh her skirt left open to viewing. "I suppose I would be too if I looked like you. Sorry, sweetheart, I don't do charity dates."

She wasn't sure which was more insulting: the up down he gave her, the tone of his voice, or his actual word choice. It was probably all three. Either way she was pissed. "Malfoy, I'd look to Luna Lovegood for a pity date before I'd look you up. I was merely wondering what devious little ploy you have up your sleeves." Hermione had nothing against Luna, in fact ever since the D.A. she and Luna had become quite good friends, but nothing could be more insulting to the pompous, pureblood Draco Malfoy than coming in second to a girl as 'crazy' and 'unrespectable' and Miss Lovegood.

The cocky grin slid off his face and anger turned his eyes to a beautiful molten silver, but his voice was harsh and his words ugly, " Stupid Bitch. A filthy mudblood like you has no business knowing mine. Now, why don't you run along and play with your little Golden pals and leave the rest of us respectable wizards in peace."

She was half tempted to stay put just to irritate and defy him, but his company was as unwanted to her and hers was to him. Besides, she needed to meet up with Harry and Ron for an Order meeting. Pushing herself up from her seat she gave him the one finger salute and sauntered toward the door. Mustering all of her maturity she mastered the urge to knock the books out from under his feet. Reaching the door she turned to face him and put a sly smile on her face, " Next time you try and insinuate someone is ugly I'd suggest you refrain from giving yourself a stiffy when appraising their charms." Her eyes glanced knowingly at his trousers before walking through the dungeon doors and closing them behind her with a snap.

Malfoy's cheeks flushed as he looked down. Damn that Granger! His arousal wasn't showing in the least as his robes totally hid the offending appendage. He stood up angrily knocking his stack of books to the floor. How dare that mudblood assume he would find her sexually appealing?! The silly little virgin was grasping at straws. He stormed from the room to go in search of Pansy who would be only too happy to help fix his little problem.

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Number twelve Grimmauld Place was not a picturesque house with tulips lining the walk and a cute white picket fence surrounding lush green grass. There were no children's toys littering the yard or any bird houses nestled in neatly trimmed trees that were perfect for climbing. Rather the dilapidated building looked like a haunted house and every time Hermione set foot inside the ancient structure a shiver ran up her spine and Edgar Allen Poe's The Fall of the House of Usher would come rushing into her mind to fill it with thoughts of horror.

Even after all of Molly Weasley's vigorous cleaning cobwebs still clung to the corners of the ceiling and in hard to reach places, there was always a thing layer of dust that covered everything, and on occasion a new nest of doxies would be discovered. She thought that perhaps Mrs. Black had cast a forever dirty spell upon the place. It certainly wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination and it most definitely was something within her character.

It wasn't just the general filthiness of the place that made Hermione feel dirty it was the overall gloom of the place. No matter how many candles she and Tonks would spread about the place and light the whole house seemed to remain encased in a depressing darkness. The long shadows that were cast by items of unknown origin didn't help matters either. She remembered back to her first summer vacation that she spent at the Order's head quarters. One night she had awakened the whole house in the dead of night with an ear piercing scream. She had been making her way back to her room from getting a midnight snack and was nearly at the top of the stairs when she was suddenly and inexplicably paralyzed by fear. The only thing that had appeared to still function was her vocal chords. The brave gryffindor couldn't explain what had terrified her, but she held no qualms of using the cliché 'I had the sensation of someone walking over my grave' to describe what had scared her . To this day the brightest witch of her age couldn't tell you whether there was something in the shadows that had petrified her or if her overworked mind was playing nasty tricks on her. Both Harry and Ron thought that maybe Kreacher had something to do with it, but she was sure the poor miserable house elf wasn't capable of something so mean.

"Hermione? Hermione where are you?" Ron waved his hand in front of his friend's face several times before gently shaking her out of her reverie. He arched an eyebrow at the startled expression on her face.

"Sorry Ronald I was lost in my own little world," she replied sheepishly a small blush tinting her smooth cheeks. She hated when she was caught wool-gathering. "Is the meeting about to begin?"

"Yeah, so you better dish up before my mom vanishes the food." It was hard to discern what her red haired friend was saying with a mouth full of black eyed peas and cornbread, but she got the gist of it when he enthusiastically heaped another portion onto his already very full plate.

Rolling her eyes Hermione filled her plate and began to dig in. Everyone else around the table had long since finished and most were sipping their butterbeer. Mr. and Mrs, Weasley, Lupin, Sirius, and Moody were at the opposite end of the table whispering to each other. Occasionally Mrs. Weasley would take a look on the sly at her children to make sure that they weren't eavesdropping. Tonks and Ginny sat across from each other with Tonks next to Lupin and Ginny next to Mrs. Weasley. As per usual they were engaging in their favorite pastime. Nymphadora was changing her face eliciting delighted giggles from Ginny. Next to Ginny and Tonks were the Weasley twins who were unusually silent which lead Hermione to believe that they were up to something. There were two open seats on either side of the twins for Professor McGonagall, Mundungus, Kingsley, and Snape should they happen to arrive. There was also a spot open on the end of the table between Harry and Ron for Dumbledore.

Turning her attention back to the conversation that Ron and Harry were so enthusiastically having Hermione had to stifle a sigh. What was so incredibly fabulous about quidditch that they could talk about it 24/7 and not once lose interest in the conversation? She was about to comment when the doors to the kitchen swung open wide and Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledoor strode into the room. Neither were smiling.

All eyes in the room turned towards Dumbledore when he softly cleared his throat. Silence immediately permeated the air in the once buzzing kitchen. "I have some rather disturbing news to share with everyone. It seems that Voldemort has decided to up the stakes a bit more. He is no longer content to kill those he captures after ripping from their minds that which he seeks, but has decided to let his death eaters torture his captives…"

"Well, that isn't exactly new Professor, he did that in the last war too." George Weasley cut in before Dumbledore could finish his statement. His mother shot him a nasty look and he hastily murmured an apology to the older wizard.

"We are aware of that George; however they have reverted back to the old fashioned way of torturing their victims. Kinglsey Shaklebolt informed this morning that the aurors raided a Death Eater stronghold. What they found was disturbing." Dumbledore looked everyone at the table in the eye to make sure they had their full attention. Molly Weasley looked like she was about to protest, but before she could open her mouth and speak more than a few words the Headmaster cut her off saying, "Molly, we cannot shelter them from everything and they need to know so they can be prepared."

"Very well," she whispered, but from the barely perceptible nod the older wizard gave her Hermione could tell that he had acknowledge Mrs. Weasley's concerns. Her husband grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She smiled briefly at Arthur before pursing her lips together and giving Dumbledore back her full attention.

"The aurors found what would amount to the torture chambers of the medieval ages or the Spanish Inquisition. There were a variety of torture devices in various states of use. Men and women were grouped together in a cage. All of them suffered from malnutrition. Some of the men had missing limbs and teeth. The women were all gang raped. There were several dead bodies littered among the barely living. The horrors these brave witches and wizards experienced are tremendous and appalling; however, I do not wish to list out every offense that those pour souls were forced to bear and many of them I, myself, cannot handle to recount. I tell you this not to frighten you, although it is a logical response to this information, but rather to warn you. Our fight was always dangerous and death was always a possibility, but some things are worse than death. I fear that it may not be long before they start letting dementors kiss those that they grow tired of torturing."

Shocked silence filled the room. No one even looked at each other, all eyes were either locked on the tabletop or closed. A few tears slipped down Tonk's. How many of the people that her teammates had found were fellow aurors? How many were friends? Mrs. Weasley had her head buried in her husband's shoulder. Ginny looked like she was going to be sick. Professor McGonagall looked exhausted. Hermione was too numb with shock to feel much of anything. The rage every wizard there felt was evident in their eyes, it looked as if the fires of hell were burning through their orbs. Fists were turning white from being clenched too tightly, jaws were grinding, chests were heaving. The anger and disgust were palpable.

Finally, Dumbledore called their attention back to the meeting. There were several items of business for the Order to discuss. "Severus has informed me that Voldemort is planning to send a small group of Death Eaters to Romania on a recruiting mission. Arthur has your son had much luck in starting an Order there?"

Arthur answered that his son had had some luck. The group continued to debate for several minutes the actions they could and should make to support Charlie in his endeavors. They went on to talk about Mundungus's covert operations in Knockturn Alley as well as what was happening in the Ministry of Magic. Any talk of the ministry was a sore topic for Mrs. Weasley as her son's defection from the family still stung. After about two hours the group finally called a halt to the meeting. It was nearing midnight and the students needed to get back to their dorms. Everyone stood behind their chairs and clasped hands. They bowed their heads and observed a moment of silence for everyone who had fallen in the war against Voldemort. It was a tradition that they had started after one of Tonk's friends had fallen in battle.

Hermione lifted her head and dropped her hands to her sides. She took in a deep breath and then wished that she hadn't. The air in the house was musty and tasted old and stale. She caught her companions attention and together they left Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for a happier place.

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Hermione closed the dungeon door as quietly as she could behind her. Leaning against the heavy wooden door she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dark. She didn't want anyone to wake up from the light emitted from her wand by the lumos spell so she resorted to her old hide and seek skills to get her through the crowded common room without bumping into things.

Looking around the dungeon she shivered. Dumbledore had said that the Death Eater stronghold had resembled a medieval torture chamber…. Bile rose to her throat as her over active imagination supplied her with images of emaciated wizards chained to the wall, decaying human beings being heaped in a pile in the corner of a cell, the unwashed naked bodies of raped witched huddling together to try and comfort each other…. Hermione fell to the floor and threw up in a waste basket with tears running down her cheeks. She did not rise from her kneeling position until her body calmed down from the force of her violent dry heaves.

She clawed herself to a standing position using the couch as support before beginning her trek to her bedroom. Keeping one hand in front of her to keep her from running into anything her other hand clutched desperately at her robes pulling them close to her body to ward of the disturbing images her mind had conjured for her. A shriek nearly escaped her when a body suddenly trapped her up against the wall, but a warm masculine hand covered her mouth preventing her from waking the whole house.

"You're out awfully late mudblood. Curfew was quite a few hours ago." Gray eyes bore into Hermione's brown ones. He removed his hand from around her mouth and put it near her head blocking her from escaping. His sleeved slipped down just the slightest bit. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't report you to Snape?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed to slits and her breathing increased. Just barely visible was the tip of the dark mark burned into Draco's forearm. She had always known that Draco was a death eater just like his father, but seeing the mark sent her over the edge. Here he was sitting in the lap of fucking luxury while innocent witches were being raped and wizards were being tortured by his sick and twisted comrades. Hermione opened her mouth and spit on him.

Draco recoiled in surprise and wiped the spittle from his face. Before he could retort, Hermione slapped him as hard as she could across the face. The sound of impact echoed down the corridor. "Stay the fuck away from me you sick son of bitch." The words were laced with such loathing and disgust that Malfoy was left completely speechless. The headgirl glared at him one more time before turning on her heel and marching down the hallway leaving a stunned Malfoy gingerly holding his throbbing cheek.

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Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling I'm merely borrowing it for my twisted pleasure. 

I want to thank everyone who reviewed. Nothing brightens my day or puts me in the mood to write like a review!!!


	5. Chapter 5

Warning: this chapter contains dark content and scenes that may be difficult for some readers. If you are in anyway uncomfortable reading M rated material please do not read this chapter.

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Just what in the bloody blazes was that all about? That's twice that the Gryffindor Bitch has gotten away with striking the Slytherin Prince! One moment she was docile against the cold stone and the next she was lashing out at him as if he was Lucifer himself. That girl had more mood swings than a pregnant woman. What had caused her to freak out like that anyway? And what could have made the usually stalwart witch breakdown like that?

There had been tear streaks running down her cheeks, her eyes were red and puffy, and her lower lip trembled as if trying to hold down sobs. He had smelled bile on her breath when he had leaned into her. Had something upset her to the point of throwing up? Had an Order member been killed or captured? Surely not or he'd have heard about it before now. Or perhaps he wouldn't have. Perhaps it would be discussed at the Death Eater meeting he was headed for.

The irony that both the Death Eaters and the Order had their meetings within a few hours of each other was not lost on Draco. While the Order met in the dead of the night the Death Eaters met in the still of the early morning. He was positive that Hermione had just gotten in from a meeting. Seeing as how both Dumbledore and McGonagall were Order members Draco's threat to turn the mudblood in for breaking curfew was an idle one, but he still liked to see the goody two shoe's discomfort with being confronted for breaking the rules. Typically, she would turn her nose up at him, her cheeks tinted with embarrassment, and fling some harmless retort at him before continuing on with her business. Something had set her off tonight, he was sure of it.

Stealthily creeping out of the dungeons Draco made his way effortlessly out of the castle through one of the hidden passages shown to him by his father and out to the quidditch pitch to await his friend. Laying down in the middle of the goal area he let his body sink into the cushioning sand enveloping his body in coolness. Inhaling deeply the crisp night air served to revitalize him and the smell of grass slick with dew assaulted his nose putting him at peace. The view of the stars were hindered only by a few wisps of clouds that reflected the shine of the moon and illuminated the night in its ethereal glow.

His platinum locks glowed in the night and his gray eyes shone with the refracted glittering of the stars. A soft smile graced his lips as he thought of an apt description once given to him by a jilted lover: the looks of an angel with the soul of a devil. A dark shadow came across his face blocking his view of the heavens and jolting him from his reverie.

"Not interrupting anything am I?" The dark skinned man's eyes twinkled with merriment and a sly grin spread across his face. Blaise held out his hand and grasped the out stretched arm of his companion hefting him to his feet.

"Maybe I should be asking you the same thing? Is the meeting interrupting your shagging or are your carnal desires temporarily sated?" Draco gave his friend a lecherous look and the two men young, dumb, and full of cum broke into laughter. "You know, one of these days you're going to get caught sneaking out of some bitch's dormitory. What happens when you get expelled? I certainly doubt you can charm your way into McGonagall's, or Sprout's pants and out of trouble should they find you dallying with any of their girls. There's little Snape could do to save your shagging hide from those old prude should you be found out. Neither Flitwick or Dumbledore will tolerate the lack of respect for the ladies either."

Blaise Zabini laughed heartily and slapped his best mate on the back in a rare show of camaraderie, "I'll worry about that unhappy situation when, and if, I have to. Until then I am only too happy to please the fairer sex and fulfill their every sexual desire." He waggled his eyebrows and thrust his hips suggestively.

Draco shook his head in defeat and together the two Slytherins mounted their brooms and took to the skies.

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The two young Slytherins rolled up their sleeves to show the sentinel their dark mark. Piercing eyes roved over the scarred skin taking in the undulating tongue of the snake protruding from a skull's mouth. The hooded head nodded and stepped aside to allow the two boys to enter the seemingly dilapidated building.

The sound of their shoes clicking on the stone below their feet were the only sounds that could be heard in the narrow corridor that led to a steep flight of stairs descending two stories below ground. Ducking their heads low to avoid the build up of few decades worth of cobwebs they had a perfect view of the dusty floor or mildewing walls. At the bottom of the stairs the boys once again rolled up their sleeves for the inspection of yet another guard. Once through the heavy wooden door Draco and Blaise put back their hoods and removed their cloaks.

A warm blaze crackled away in the fireplace. The orange flames melded brilliantly with the plush black carpet and red walls. Directly in front of the fire place was a beautiful mahogany table large enough to seat all the veteran Death Eaters. Intricately carved into the polished wood were complex runes. At the head of the table was a throne like chair also made of mahogany that had been shellacked to shine. Like the table the chair was also hand crafted, but in the place of runes were snakes. The backdrop of flames gave the chair an appearance of being afire. Situated around the table were smaller less ornate versions of Lord Voldemort's chair. Behind the table was a row of couches upholstered in crimson velvet.

Draco and Blaise took their places on the couch with the rest of the newly initiated death eaters. Their fellows began immediately to try and draw them into conversation. Draco listened half heartedly to the striking young lady that was jabbering at him. Half his brain was too busy fighting the intense urge to remove his socks and shoes and wriggle his toes in the inviting carpet while the other half was still fixating on what could have possibly tormented his favorite muggle-born. He fervently hoped that this meeting would enlighten him. He despised knowing that the mudblood was privy to information that he was not.

A door hidden in the back of the room behind an ancient tapestry creaked open and immediately all the occupants of the room ceased their mindless chatter and rose to their feet. Two columns of figures cloaked in blackness and evil marched in silent unison to the table and stood behind the chairs their heads bowed reverently.

Lord Voldemort entered the room last draped elegantly in his wizard's robes striding confidently to the head of the table. Pulling a wickedly sharp ornamental dagger from the folds of his robes Voldemort held his hand high and slashed open his wrist. Turning his hand palm down he flexed his wrist twice, forcing out a steady stream of scarlet. The death eaters directly on either side of him pulled back their hoods and sliced open their wrists repeating the bloodletting process. Straight down the line pair by pair they ripped open their wrists until the runes of the table ebbed and flowed with the life giving substance. When the last of the death eaters had spilled their blood they turned to their neighbor and offered them their wrist. Bending their heads slightly the death eaters latched their lips onto the wound and suckled once before pulling their lips away and running their tongues over the gash sealing it closed. So it went down the line until at last Bellatrix and Malfoy, to the left and right of their Lord, held their bleeding wrists in sacrifice to him.

He dipped his head to simultaneously close their lacerations filling his mouth with blood. Lucius Malfoy stood smugly while his master partook of his life-force. Bellatrix's eyes glistened with lust and a moan of ecstasy slipped from her parted lips. The remnants of their blood stood out garishly on Voldemort's ashen features even after he had licked the blood off. Then as one they seated themselves around the table and the meeting began.

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The meeting was coming to a close and still nothing had been revealed that could have been the cause of the lady Gryffindor's acute disgust and despair. Some aurors had been killed, a few female ministry officials abducted, and some muggles had mysteriously vanished, but that was it. Normal fare. Definitely not something that should have put the mudblood in the state that she was in.

Looking around the table Draco searched the faces of the senior death eaters trying to discern what if anything they were hiding. He should have known better. Most of them were highly skilled at controlling their body language and facial features, which is why they had all survived the inquisition they were put through after the fall of the Dark Lord at baby Potter's hands. There were, of course, exceptions. Bella had been put away in Azkaban for her allegiance to the Dark Lord, but she had she wanted to hide it she probably could have. However, her openness was of no help in discerning what she was thinking because her sanity was so far gone. As for Crabbe and Goyle they were just too stupid. You ran the risk of over estimating them if you tried to figure out what was going on in their heads based on body language and facial features alone. Now, had the Dark Lord not been present he would have had no hesitation in using legilimens to find out what he wanted. Other than Voldemort the only two other Death Eaters who would have been able to block him were his father and Snape. Either of them would most likely just tell him what he wanted. So he waited.

His patience was finally rewarded when after the death eaters had retired and Lucius re-emerged from the door hidden behind the tapestry adorned in standard attire and bade Draco to follow him. He followed the taller image of himself out another door that was cleverly concealed and then up three flights of stairs. The elder Malfoy led them down numerous hallways until at last he halted in front of a dead end. Lucius turned abruptly and eyed his son critically. The stare lasted long enough to make the younger Malfoy nervous. His armpits began to sting and his hands began to sweat, but not once did his steel gaze waiver from his father's. Nodding his head once in Draco's direction Lucius turned back to the wall and tapped his wand on a series of large, gray stones.

Just as the bricks in The Leaky Cauldron had rearranged themselves to allow admittance into Diagon Alley the stones in front of his father began to separate and form an archway. Draco followed his father through the opening expecting to be led down yet another hallway, but instead was lead into a nightmare.

He had read few muggle books, but one of those few was a memoir assigned to his muggle studies class. The author had been a survivor of the holocaust. Some of the imagery had turned his stomach. At one point during class discussion of the memoir Granger had politely raised her hand and asked what the difference was between the muggle holocaust and the future that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had planned for the wizarding world.

The whole class had gone silent. A handful of the Slytherins hung their heads and others averted their eyes from the their classmates. No small few of his fellow junior death eaters had smiled. He was furious. The mudbloods and blood traitors looked ill at ease, but quite a few had determined looks on their faces. The professor had locked eyes with Granger before heaving a pained sigh and solemnly replying, "Nothing."

The rest of the class had been lost to Draco as he sat there silently fuming. When the Professor had finally dismissed them he had followed Granger to the library when he had cornered her at a table stacked high with books. Though their exchange had been brief it was forever engraved upon his memory.

"We don't rape. We don't maim. We don't experiment. We are not Nazis." His eyes had flashed molten silver, his fists had clenched and unclenched at his sides, and when he wasn't speaking he had been grinding his teeth.

She hadn't stood and shouted at him. She hadn't started crying or throwing books at him. She hadn't cussed at him or hexed him. Those he had been prepared for. Instead she had crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair until it was balancing on its hind legs. He still remembered verbatim what the Gryffindor Princess had said. "You torture people with the cruciatius. You control people via the imperius forcing them against their will to do your ill will; which is basically mind raping them. You kill people indiscriminately because they are different from you. Tell me Malfoy, how you are different from the Nazis? It is only a matter of time before you begin disfiguring and sexually assaulting your prisoners," the words had spilled from her mouth with no malice or disdain. They were stated as if she were reading a passage from one of her textbooks. There was no sadness in her brown eyes and her posture showed no discomfort. It was the complete lack of emotion that had disturbed him the most. It was as if she truly expected nothing less from a death eater. As if they knew not of humanity and honor and were barely more than craven animals. Words had escaped him. He had left the library angrier than he had entered it.

Now, standing next to his father in a room at a Death Eater strong hold the scene with Hermione that had happened just a few scant hours ago and their exchange from a few months ago wrestled for supremacy in his mind.

The lights in the room were dimmed, but he had no trouble seeing and what he saw hurt him. For months he had mentally and sometimes vocally defended himself against the accusations of acts against humanity committed by Voldemort's followers rivaling those of the Nazis. Now, he no longer could.

Along one wall were four beds upon which were women who were restrained by ropes. One was mumbling incoherently, Draco could make out a word here and there. The most frequent were "God", "help", "please", and "stop". The battered woman looked to be about his mother's age. On either side of her were two other women each perhaps ten years younger than the murmurer, both were laying there comatose. Had he dared to venture closer he was certain that their eyes were probably unseeing and glazed. All of them were naked, all of them had various bruises, and one of them was covered with dried blood.

It was the last bed that was the worst. One of the higher ranking death eaters was grunting his satisfaction as he thrust himself into a young woman who was screaming and crying while thrashing hard against her restraints trying to buck her rapist off of her. Draco recognized her as a Ravenclaw who had graduated one year before him and had taken a job at the ministry. The burly man belted her after a particularly piercing scream of pain was torn from her throat.

Draco quickly averted his eyes. He took a moment to breathe in deeply and then looked at his father. Lucius's face was completely blank and his posture non-threatening. "Compose yourself Draco and take a good look around," his father said, the monotone words sounded foreign coming from a man who loved inflection.

Draco schooled his features into a mask of indifference and relaxed his body as much as he was able. Looking around the rest of the room without sneering in disgust and anger or averting his eyes was one of the most difficult tasks that had ever been asked of him.

Chained together around the waist were perhaps a dozen other people of both sexes and varying ages. Some were missing fingers or toes. One man was missing his entire left foot and kept crooning to the nub while petting it lovingly as if it were a pet. Occasionally someone would grimace in pain showing a mouth with swollen gums and missing teeth. All of them were showing signs of malnourishment. He could clearly count all of the ribs of one person.

If the pungent smell of excrement, blood, and sweat were not enough of a sign that these people hadn't bathed in a lengthy period of time their grimy bodies interrupted only by the tear streaks on their faces, their matted hair, and the dingy remains of their clothing made it undeniably clear.

The wall to his right was covered with mountings that he supposed were used to restrain people and above those mountings hanging from ropes were a myriad of different devices. His over active imagination refused to let him linger for too long on those metal and leather contraptions. His stomach felt queasy and he could feel the burn of vile eating at the back of his throat. The hurt he had felt earlier was replaced with disgust quickly followed by rage. He turned his steely gaze to his father and barely managed the clipped words, "I have seen enough."

His father nodded and together they left the room. They walked in silence out of the strong hold and it wasn't until Draco was ready to mount his broom that Lucius finally broke the silence his voice crackling in the tense darkness, " If I ever find out you have participated in something as dishonorable as that I will end your miserable existence myself. As much as I despise the Order at least I don't have to fear your mother being raped or you being dismembered if ever you are captured." Draco nodded his agreement and watched as his father turned sharply and with a crack dissaparated.

Pushing off hard with his legs Draco took to the air and turned towards Hogwarts.

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His mind was awhirl with thoughts as Draco pushed open the heavy wooden door to the Slytherin common room. He slumped down hard onto the leather sofa and let his head fall into his hands. The enormity of his new found knowledge brutally descended upon him. Those women were someone's daughter, mother, sister, aunt, niece, wife, girlfriend or a hundred other things. Those people chained up were all something to someone. Weren't the pureblood's the ones who were suppose to be superior to mudbloods and blood-traitors? Didn't Voldemort preach daily about the filthiness of those not of pureblooded origin? Yet, the mudbloods and blood-traitors were the ones refraining from the most vile of acts while the ones of pure blood acted more like animals than respectable human beings.

His arm shot out and grabbed the nearest waste basket bringing it under his chin. The bile burned as it exited his mouth and his nose stung. Grasping the edge of the garbage can he retched again as the image of the man without his foot came skittering across his mind. The sound of the Ravenclaw's scream rang in his ears as if he were in front of her once again. He dropped the trash can and covered his ears with shaking hands. The Ravenclaw's face changed to Hermione's and instead of a veteran death eater violating her tiny frame it was him. Slamming his eyes closed he tried to banish the vision from his mind. Is that what Hermione thought him capable of? Is that why she slapped him?

He sprung up from the couch and threw himself head long down the corridor to the women's dormitories. Draco came to a skidding halt in front of her door and knocked on it gently while softly calling out her name. He wasn't sure why, but he had to make sure she knew that he would never do something like that. Yes, he would lie, cheat, steal, and kill to further his cause, but he would never ever act that immorally. The prefect stood out in the hallway for quite sometime before the door finally creaked open and a sleeping Hermione stepped out into the hallway dressed only in her short bathrobe and even shorter night gown. Her eyes widen when Draco stepped out of the shadows and she immediately began to step backwards into the safety of her room.

Quicker than he thought possible Draco grabbed her wrist and began to pull her toward down the hallway toward the common room. When she tried to jerk her wrist loose he whispered, "I'm not going to hurt you Hermione."

The young woman visibly startled at the sound of her name and Draco felt her resistance fade as she allowed herself to be pulled down the hallway. It wasn't until they were standing in front of the fireplace that he relinquished his grasp. He nodded to the chair opposite him as he once again seated himself on the couch.

"What do you want?" The words sounded surprisingly strong coming from a woman standing in front of him in bare feet and clad in a deep purple nightgown that reached only a few inches lower than her behind and showed a tantalizing amount of cleavage. She chose to remain standing at a safe distance from him.

"Why were you crying earlier?" The words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to really think about what he wanted to say and the tone was kinder than he thought he could ever mutter towards his long hated enemy.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she clasped the knee length silk dressing robe closed over the her nightgown barely concealing the black lace trim. "I fail to see what business it is of yours or why you even care."

The harsh bite of her words made him flinch. Squaring his shoulder he locked eyes with the female Order member. " I think I know why. Not all of us would stoop to something so despicable. I would never do something like that."

The words seemed to take her aback and for one brief moment something flickered in her expressionate brown eyes. He wasn't sure what it was or even if he liked it. "My mother once told me that bad things happen when good people stand by and do nothing. I disagree. If they were really good people they wouldn't stand by and watch it happen. If you don't stop it you're allowing it to continue and that makes you just as bad as them."

Draco stood up angrily from the couch and stalked towards the head girl not stopping until they were just shy of being nose to nose. "I have you alone and wandless right now. If I were as bad as them I would rip that sexy little number from your body and have my way with you right now. If I were as bad as them I would beat you when you resisted." His voice was low and dangerous. " And if I were as bad as them I would probably spit on you when I done." He stepped away from her and stomped off to his rooms leaving a shaking Hermione in his wake.

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	6. Chapter 6

Her heart was pounding so frantically if it weren't for her ribcage she was certain it would have leapt from her chest. The blood rushing in her ears drowned out any other sounds and she was sure that her panicked breathing would wake someone up. Wide eyed throughout Draco's last outburst her eyes were dry and she blinked them several times to relieve the itchiness. The scent of his breath still lingered in her nostrils to mix with the heady smell of his shampoo.

Not bothering to put on clothes or even slippers Hermione escaped from the Slytherin common room and headed for her own. Having traversed the corridors of Hogwarts for years with Harry and Ron she knew her way around the ancient school like the back of her hand. She didn't fear being spotted by any of the monitors prowling the halls in search of delinquent students; for humans were creatures of habit and as such the hall nazis tended to stick to routine. She knew exactly when the shift changes would take place and each person's favorite path. Harry's marauder's map had definitely been a life saver.

Her bare feet padded softly as she weaved a round about path to the Gryffindor's common room. After such an encounter with the Slytherin Prince she felt desperate to surround herself with the familiarity of crimson and gold. Cursing her idiocy for taking her bracelet off at night she vowed that starting tomorrow she would never take it off; not even in the baths. Shaking her head at her naiveté she continued to scold herself. Not only had she not been wearing the bracelet that she had worked diligently on throughout her break, but she had neglected to grab her wand. Numerous 'what ifs' soared through her mind, each one more frightening than the last.

With her wand she and Malfoy were at the very least equals, but without it she was a sitting duck. Ever since her second year at Hogwarts when she experienced first hand the prejudice that mudbloods faced at the hands of others Hermione had taken the necessary steps to protect herself. Every summer since then she had religiously attended self defense and karate lessons. She was fairly capable of being able to take care of herself against another woman or a man smaller than her. However, Draco was neither a woman nor smaller than her. Had he wanted to he could have done some serious damage.

He hadn't though and that really surprised her. Perhaps he wasn't a bad as some of the other death eaters, but she wasn't naïve enough to think him innocent either. No one was purely good or purely evil, black or white. Everyone was a shade a gray, but was Draco the dark shade of gray his eyes were when he was nonplussed or was he closer to the lighter, more vibrant, and beautiful molten silver his eyes turned when he was aroused? Would she ever know? What would it take to know for sure? More importantly, was the event that would let her know be some thing she would walk away from with her life? She shivered from more than the cold that permeated the drafty corridors.

A small hiccupping sound stopped her in her tracks and Hermione immediately threw herself against the wall. She raked her mind for who it could possibly be. Eyeing the portraits surrounding her she tried to remember who patrolled the corridor she was currently hiding in and at what time they patrolled it. No one came to mind. In fact Snape should have already slithered his way down this hall over two hours ago. That meant it was probably a student. If they were crying they probably needed help. Looking down at herself she snorted. The head girl was hardly dressed to help anyone. Oh well, with great power came great responsibility even if you weren't wearing a cool costume. Still, she cinched the silk tie tight around her waist and tugged it down and far as it would go. Running her hand through her wild locks she tried to tame the wavy mass into not looking like sex hair.

Squaring her shoulders and inhaling deeply Hermione rounded the corner prepared to face whatever 'dilemma' awaited her. What she wasn't expecting to see was Peeves floating forlornly over a bust whose porcelain lay in pieces surrounding the podium upon where it once sat. Silent tears trickled down the poltergeist's face and small, occasional hiccups interrupted his crooning. "Peeves, what did you do now?" Her voice wasn't harsh like it normally was when addressing the troublesome specter, but instead it was soft and gentle, more like a mother's voice when consoling a small child.

The phantasm looked up at her and immediately the tears stopped flowing and he ceased hiccupping. A nasty sneer came over his features and he snarled at her, " Peeves did nothing! Peeves was merely talking to his only friend when two snickering boys came along that corridor stuffing their fat faces with food! Peeves started singing them a song like he likes to do. Ungrateful boys tried to hex Peeves, but the stupid oafs missed and now Busty is gone. I'm going to get those boyses!" His nostrils started to flare and his eyes went wild. His chest started to heave and he raised his hands in front of him clenching and unclenching his fists.

"It's hardly the end of the world Peeves. I'm sure that when Mr. Finch sees this mess he will have one of the professors fix it," she replied and, considering the matter closed, began to walk off down the hall when Peeves' hysterical wail stopped her from taking more than a few steps.

"NO! No, he won't! Friendless Finch hates Peeves. He will sweep his friend into a trash can and laugh at me. That horrible wretched man. Peeves will get him and his little cat too!" Little specks of spittle flew from his mouth so vehemently were the words spoken. Hermione was sure he was just seconds away from frothing at the mouth.

Searching her mind for a solution that would keep the already unhinged ghost from turning into an avenger of maniacal proportions she tentatively offered him a deal. "If I come back tomorrow morning and fix Mr. Busty for you will you agree to owing me a favor?"

Peeves favored her with a curious look forcing her to nervously shift from one foot to the other. "Why don't you just fix Mr. Busty now? Why wait until tomorrow?"

"I don't have my wand. I'll come by first thing in the morning before breakfast and fix him for you before anyone can disturb him."

"How can I trust that you will keep your word? How do I know this is not some cruel trick you're playing on me?"

"Of the two of us you are the one that plays nasty pranks on people. I'm Head Girl. I wouldn't debase myself by lying to you. Take it or leave it Peeves, I'm cold and I'm tired," she said waspishly her irritation clearly coming through. She had long ago stopped shifting from one foot to the other and now stood in front of the wavering poltergeist with her arms crossed under her breasts while one bare foot tapped out an aggravated staccato on the carpet.

The agitated specter gave her one more searching look before slowly nodding his head in agreement of her terms. "Fine. I will wait here and protect Mr. Busty."

"You do that Peeves," she sighed "I'll see you in the morning." Not wasting anymore time she swept the past the ghost being mindful of the shattered pieces of plaster and made her way without further interruptions to Gryffindoor Tower.

Standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady Hermione cleared her throat just load enough to rouse the slumbering woman from her sleep. The Fat Lady yawned once and opened her eyes just wide enough to discern that it was a Gryffindor awaiting admittance. Hey eyes opened fully at the sight of Hermione's attire and her eyebrow quirked upwards, but wisely kept silent. Hermione nodded once to the Fat Lady before murmuring, "Optimism is the foundation of courage." The words were a sensual caress coming from her full lips. The head girl savored the feel of the words rolling around her tongue. Her spirits lifted and her heart swelled at the sound of her voice speaking their password.

Each time the password changed a member of the Order of the Phoenix would choose a motivational quote for the password. The portrait smiled indulgently at the girl with the twinkle in her eye and a small grin lighting up her beautiful features. Hermione nearly cried stepping over the threshold into the Gryffindor common room. It had only been a few weeks since she had moved in with the Slytherin's, but it felt like a lifetime. Sinking into the soft, maroon colored couch in front of a still crackling fire she felt like she was melting into a lover's embrace. It was good to be home.

Hermione pulled the fleece throw from its folded place on top of the couch and snuggled into it. The blanket was emblazoned with the Gryffindor crest in shinning gold upon a background of crimson. Burying her face in the soft pillows that always adorned the couch she closed her eyes and let herself drift into a blissful sleep feeling safer than she had in weeks.

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Her legs pumped furiously as her long strides propelled her down the aisles in the Department of Mysteries. The wand in her hand was gripped so tightly the runes started to leave impressions on her flesh. Flinging a curse over her shoulder she heard the muffled profanity that let her know that her spell had hit its mark. Throwing herself to the left she sprinted down another isle looking around desperately for her comrades. Where were they?!? One minute they were standing back to back with their wands ready and the next they had scrambled in opposite directions.

The thudding of footsteps behind her forced the young woman to look over her shoulder to see who was rapidly gaining on her. The billowing black robes and silver mask was all the evidence she needed that her pursuers meant her bodily harm. Spurring herself to go faster she slowly began to put some distance between herself and the death eater. A blur appeared in front of her and before she could stop herself she was falling in a tangle of arms and legs to the ground.

The body she had collided with cushioned her fall. Rolling over she pushed herself up into a low crouch ready to do physical combat if it turned out to be an enemy or ready to help up whomever it was should they be fellow member of the D.A. A low feminine moan and flash of red was all it took for Hermione reach down and help set the person to rights. Grabbing Ginny's hand she hauled the girl to her feet and dragged her along side her running down the isle and flinging jinxes at the tall shelves. Glass spheres toppled themselves off their holders to stay suspended in midair dropping only when a death eater sped by underneath them. Dropping onto the unsuspecting heads of Ginny's and Hermione's pursuers the delicate glass shattered creating a kaleidoscope of colors from the refracted light of the spells flying over head. The shards littered the floor making running on the surface treacherous.

"Ginny, do you know where the others are?" Hermione gasped forcing the air from her burning lungs.

"No. I got separated from Ron when I had to do dodge a stupefy." Her breaths were labored making her voice come out rasping. "You're the fist person I've seen since that wasn't a death eater."

Hermione nodded grimly and redoubled her efforts. Lifting her wand high and muttering under her breath she watched as an effulgent otter came out of the tip of her wand. "Go find Harry!"

The two young women continued their careening course through the labyrinthine aisles of the Department of Mysteries. Only the sound of their strenuous panting and the occasional shatter of glass pierced the heavy silence. A streak of light penetrated the dark. Reacting quickly the two Hogwarts' students dropped to the ground and shielded their heads with their arms. Hermione's otter flew circles around her head displacing even more of her disheveled curls.

Removing her arms from her head she let out a relieved whoosh. Yanking Ginny to her feet the two took off after Hermione's patronus. Moments later found them reunited with the rest of the D.A. Harry threw open a door and they all went crashing through it to begin a free fall to the bottom. Moments before splattering onto the stone floor their bodies stopped and hovered for a brief second before unceremoniously dropping them into heaps of flesh on the floor. Not allowing her sore bones to rest for more than a minute she leapt to her feet. She hadn't taken more than a few steps when the room was suddenly filled with a black miasma.

Two hands gripped her triceps and pulled her back against an unyielding chest. Her attempts to struggle her way free were effectively ceased when the fingers wrapped around her arms dug painfully into her flesh. A quick survey showed that everyone except for Harry were in a position similar to hers. The frightened yet determined faces of her peers gave her the strength she needed to not fall to pieces.

Lucius stood in the center of the room facing off with Harry. Clutched firmly in the Boy Who Lived's hand was a the prophecy. Despite the trickle of blood that ran down his forehead and the slight wavering of his wand Harry looked for all the world as if he were facing off against an opponent in the Dueling Club instead of the most feared Death Eater of them all. Lucius's deep voice was a sensual caress as he tried to convince Harry to hand over the orb in exchange for his friends' lives.

Shaking his head defiantly Harry replied, "You'll just kill them all after I hand it over."

"Fine then. You refuse to listen to reason, but can you ignore the screams coming from your friends?" With a wry twist of his lips he beckoned for the Death eater holding Hermione prisoner to bring her to him.

Hermione dug her heels into the ground and fought harder to escape. Throwing her head back she heard a satisfying crunch when her noggin connected with the Death Eater's nose. One hand abruptly released her, but before she could make a move to get out of the grasp of his other hand the tip of his wand was thrust against her neck stilling all her movements. The Death Eater shoved her so hard forward that her neck was snapped back. Stumbling she fell to her knees in front of the malicious pureblood wizard.

Reaching down a gloved hand Lucius grabbed Hermione by the hood of her sweatshirt and jerked her to her feet to face him. "UH uh uh, Potter. Don't even think it. I even see your lips twitch and I'll crucio this mudblood till she has blood pouring from her ears."

Harry stopped mid-movement from coming to his friend's aid and stared helplessly at the brightest witch of her age. Pressing his lips firmly together he stood still and locked eyes with the bane of his existence.

Hermione watched in horror as Lucius's hair began to shrink before her eyes. His cheek bones became sharper, his eyes shifted to a bright silver color, and the creases around his eyes and mouth disappeared. The mask worn by all death eaters evaporated into wisps of smoke and his voluminous robes morphed into the Hogwarts' school uniform complete with Slytherin Patch and polished Prefect Badge. Where the death eater had stood at least two feet taller than Hermione the student before her stood only seven inches taller than herself. Slimmer were the hips and less broad were the shoulders of Draco Malfoy who now stood in his father's stead.

Draco's hand grabbed a chunk of hair and pulled her towards him spinning her around in the process so that the Golden Boy could see her stricken features. Twisting her hair around his fist he dragged her head back so that it was almost resting on his shoulder. Bending his head down he whispered in her ear, "You're helpless Hermione. I could throw you on the ground and have my way with you right here while all your friends watched on helpless to do anything except close their eyes or grit their teeth."

Her breath hitched in her throat when he rocked his hips against her backside his arousal obvious. The tip of his tongue darted out to delicately trace the shell of her ear. A low whimper escaped her throat unbidden and she clamped her lips shut to keep any other sounds from alerting her captor to her distress.

Moving his mouth from her ear to her neck he nipped at her skin from the delicate spot underneath her ear to her shoulder. "I could beat you to within an inch of your life and there's nothing you or your little goody two shoes friends could do about it." Biting down hard enough on her shoulder to leave imprints of his teeth before moving to suck with bruising force to her pulse he steadied her with a firm hand on her hip.

Hermione bit down on her lip to keep from crying out the metallic tang of her blood rolling around on her tongue. A single tear trekked its way down her face to fall with a small splash on the long white fingers holding her in place. Another followed and another and another before he finally stopped his torment on her pulse. Her shoulders slumped in relief when the pressure of his lips left her slender neck.

Hermione could see the anger blazing in Harry's eyes and forced herself to steady her breathing and stop her tears. As calmly as she could she pleaded with Harry, "Don't give in Harry. Keep the prophecy from Voldemort."

An enraged hiss was heard from behind her and before she could say anything else she was being spun around and Draco's lips crashed down onto her own. Their teeth gnashed together and the pressure with which he kissed her caused her lip to begin to bleed anew. Opening her mouth in order to protest she nearly choked on his tongue when it invaded her wet cavern. His arm slipped from her hip to the small of her back his fingers kneading the tense muscles keeping her pressed firmly against him. The hand in her hair began to slowly stroke her scalp.

The tingly sensation of his petting was eliciting in her a relaxing response. Slowly her resistance melted and the physiological arousal her body had produced from fear and anger turned into arousal of a deliciously sexual sort. The groan that drifted to her ears from her assailant's mouth ripped her out of the numbing haze his ministrations forced upon her brain. With renewed vigor she brought her arms up to his chest and shoved as hard as she could. His embrace slackened just enough for her to tear her mouth away from his and scream in protest…

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"NO!!!" The shriek broke the silence of the Gryffindor common room and Hermione launched herself out of her troubled slumber so violently that she fell from the couch and landed with a thud on the floor. Heart pounding in her ears she took in her surroundings with wide eyes. Everything was as it was when she had fallen asleep, the only exception being the fireplace that had long since burnt to embers.

Slowly picking herself up off the ground and straightening her bathrobe Hermione strained her ears for any sign that she had awoken anyone with her scream. Not hearing anything other than her labored breathing she grabbed the blanket up off the floor and wrapped it securely around her shoulders before heading to her Head Girl's room in the top of the tower. Stopping briefly in front of the mirror on the landing she swept her hair up and inspected her shoulder and neck.

The breath in her lungs she hadn't been aware of holding leapt to freedom with her sigh of relief at the sight of her unblemished skin. Letting her hair back down to cascade around her shoulders she turned on her heel and slipped into her bedroom. Digging around one of her desk drawers until she found the old muggle alarm clock she kept there she set it to wake her up bright and early before slipping into bed. She pulled the covers up all the way to her chin and burrowed into the feather softness of her mattress.

Her eyes slipped shut and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow. Her alarm clock whirred to life four hours later rousing the Head Girl from her light slumber. Opening her eyes slowly she rolled over onto her side and slowly inched her way towards the end of the bed. Sticking first one foot out from under the covers and then the next she touched one tentative toe to the stone floor and immediately upon contract jerked the appendage back under the fluffy warmth of her blankets. The chill of the cold stone traveled up from her toes into her foot and up her leg before the warmth from the blankets could counteract it.

She curled herself into the fetal position and wrapped her arms around her knees. Millimeter by millimeter her eyelids retracted letting in more and more light until her eyes were completely open and staring at the muggle alarm clock that was still buzzing on her dresser. Slipping her hand under her pillow her fingers searched for her wand. When the familiar wood still hadn't connected with her questing fingers a minute later she finally sat up and pulled the pillow onto her lap. There was no wand. Staring confusedly at the bare flannel it took a moment for her brain to completely wake up. Slapping her palm to her forehead she let her body drop back to the comforting embrace of her mattress a soft sigh escaping her lips upon contact.

Why hadn't she grabbed her wand as soon as she heard someone calling her name through the heavy wood door of her temporary room in the dungeons? Why, especially, when she saw who exactly it was that was calling to her didn't she insist upon grabbing her wand before leaving the dubious safety of her room? Oh, well. What was done was done and there wasn't anything she could do about it short of grabbing her time turner, but that wouldn't have been an acceptable use of the magical item so that thought was nixed.

Rolling over onto her tummy the brightest witch of her age stared down at the stone cold floor and tried to will it warm with her mind knowing all the while that it was a futile effort. Her alarm clock kicked up another notch in volume and Hermione knew that if she didn't get up to turn the damn thing off soon it would be loud enough to wake her nearest neighbors. Grumbling she threw herself off the bed and hopped over to the desk refraining as much as possible from letting her bare feet hit the freezing floor. Stepping up onto her chair she sat her tush down on her desk and picked up the alarm clock deftly turning it over in her hands and clicking the switch to off.

Putting the alarm clock back on the desk she eyed her closet and the space between it and her with the practiced skill of a tactician. There were a few items scattered along her floor that she could use to make her way to her clothes without having to touch the floor. Nodding her head in approval of her plan she leapt from the desk to the first item on her trip. The journey to the closet was oddly reminiscent of when she and her sister would toss the couch cushions onto the floor and hop around her mother's living room playing 'hot lava'. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It had been a long time since she had been able to use her imagination for something so trivial as a game to wile away the boredom of a rainy afternoon. Most of the time of late her creativity had gone to offensive and defensive strategies, magics, and whatever else in the fight against Voldemort.

Letting out a squeal of delight she dropped to her hands and knees in triumph in front of her closest to dig for some suitable clothes. All of her school clothes were in her room in Slytherin House, but she had some muggle clothes stashed away in her room. Tugging the hipsters up her legs and fastening them with one hand she grabbed a long-sleeved, navy blue tee. Pulling the soft material over her head she mentally calculated the number of days until the next Hogsmeade's visit when she could spend the whole day in the familiar comfort of cotton and denim. Her old sneakers came out of the closet next and onto her feet. She hated not wearing socks with her shoes, but it couldn't be helped as all of her under things were ensconced in her bureau in the dungeons. Which of course meant that she was also going commando. Another thing she didn't appreciate and just one more reason why Draco Malfoy was a wanker and the bane of her existence.

Removing the hair tie from around her wrist she whipped her hair up and through the elastic all the while turning her head about the room to make sure she had everything. Finally securing her locks in place she bundled up her purple lingerie and headed out the door.

She had an appointment to make with a poltergeist before breakfast.

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Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter are property of J.K. Rowling except for the plot which is mine. The quote used as the Gryffindor password is Nicholas Murray Butler's.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed or added me to their alerts. I love opening my mailbox to see the fanfiction review alert subject titles. They make me smile and sometime giggle if there are more than a handful of them in a row. I have already started on the next chapter. I think it goes without say that the more reviews I get the more drive I have to complete the next chapter to get more reviews, but I guess I'll say it anyway in hope of getting said reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

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Hermione made it to the dungeons without seeing a single soul; a fact which made her extremely happy and was probably the only thing that saved Draco's hair from being turned a savory purple color. The corridors were cold and drafty and since she hadn't the luxury of a bra to conceal the fact that she could cut glass she was relieved that no one happened upon her.

Slipping into her room on tiptoes and being careful to shut the door as quietly as she could, so as to not alert her roommates to her prior absence she made her way over to her trunk. She heaved a sigh of relief when no one stirred from their slumber. The brunette stripped down and changed as quickly as she could, making sure her prefect badge was affixed firmly to her robes, and was out the dungeon doors again before more than a handful of students began waking up.

Her bracelet secured firmly around her wrist and her wand in the inside pocket of her robes, the Head Girl felt much more confident walking the halls of the castle than she had last night in nothing but her nightgown. It wasn't long before she stepped into the corridor that Peeves's friend Mr. Busty dwelled in. Peeves was still there standing sentinel over the shattered remains of his only comrade. "Good morning Peeves. I trust no further harm happened to Mr. Busty after I left last night?"

Peeves's head shot up to look upon the intruder of his thoughts and a small upturn of his lips was seen briefly before the almost smile turned into a smirk. "Filthy Filch tried to sweep him up this morning just like I predicted, but I showed him I did."

The nasty gleam that shown in the specter's eyes made Hermione wince. Whatever he had done to stop the man was probably something she was better off not knowing and thus refrained from asking for an explanation. "Before I fix him I want you to promise me again that you will abide by our agreement Peeves. If I even think that you are deceiving me I won't do it and if you try to double cross me later I will shattered him again and deliver his remains myself to Filch."

The harshness of her tone left little doubt that her words were a promise rather than a threat. Instead of answering the young woman verbally Peeves merely nodded his head in ascent and stared expectantly at his broken alabaster friend. Hermione stared at the ghost for another moment, but detecting only sincerity in Peeves' gaze decided not to press for a verbal promise. His friend obviously meant a lot to him, which was odd seeing as how Peeves generally seemed to care only for himself, and the possibility of losing Mr. Busty was enough to make the troublemaker honor his promise made the night before.

Pointing her wand at the former Mr. Busty Hermione called out, "Reparo." The pieces floated up to the pedestal and began to fit themselves together. It looked like invisible hands were putting together a 3-D puzzle. A genuine smile lit up Peeves face when the last piece joined its brethren. A light shone through the cracks in the bust before it blinked out leaving a seamless work of art.

The Head Girl stood expectantly for a full minute waiting. Nothing happened.

She looked quizzically at Peeves who was floating around his friend's head crooning at it. Noticing her stare the poltergeist stopped his movements and fixed his gaze onto the human female who had fixed his friend. "I suppose you want your favor now."

"No, not at this moment. I'll call upon you later when I have need of you. Doesn't he talk?" It was really quite puzzling. She had expected the sculptured head to begin a dialogue with Peeves once his mouth was in working order again.

A chortle escaped from Peeves' mouth and the mockery in his gaze made her bristle. "Busts don't talk stupid girl. It's only hardened clay!"

A twitch above her eyebrow was the only outward sign that Hermione was irritated. "Well, pardon me. If the blasted pictures could talk it was only natural to assume that the statues could too!" With a 'hump' Hermione spun on her heel and flounced down the corridor her shampoo commercial hair bouncing along with her. "Don't forget you owe me!" was called over her shoulder. Peeves's cackling that had been following her down the corridor stopped abruptly.

Pushing through the big double doors leading into the dining hall Hermione made a b-line for the Gryffindor table where Ginny was waving enthusiastically. The wafting smells of blueberry crepes, lemon poppy-seed muffins, and french toast assaulted her nostrils and she breathed in heavily closing her eyes and sighing in delight. She could hear the bacon and sausage still sizzling on the skillets that kept them warm. Her taste buds started to water at the remembered tang of pumpkin juice sloshing around on her tongue.

Plopping down next to Ginny she commandeered a spoonful of fluffier than possible eggs. She had just finished plunking a juicy piece of fresh pineapple into her mouth when the skin between her shoulder blades began to itch. Turning her head her eyes unerringly met Draco's in a clash of slate and toffee. In a move of its own accord her hand flitted to her neck and caressed the skin where dream Draco had bitten and sucked. When he arched a quizzical eyebrow her hand flew away from her neck as if it had been branded. A blush stained her cheeks and she could feel her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.

Just when she was about to give up on her eye daggers of doom he looked away and said something to Pansy that soon had the girl in stitches. Ignoring the probable slight to her personhood she turned back to the table and immersed herself in the conversation flowing around her. The brunette pointedly ignored the itchiness between her shoulder blades.

"I don't know what you're complaining about Ronald. You at least get to stay in your own house. It shouldn't be as awkward for you at it is for me or Hermione. You don't even have to deal with the ferret." Ginny huffed spearing her strawberry laden belgium waffle with her fork a little more violently than necessary.

"Doesn't matter. We have to keep our eyes peeled for vandals. Some Slytherin git tried to transfigure our lion tails into snakes to make it look like the snake was eating the lion!" Ron countered between bites of food. "Besides what's so traumatic about Hufflepuff?"

Ginny shrugged her shoulders, "It's not so much traumatic as just weird. Unless you experience it Ron I don't think you can understand. I wake up every morning and I'm not in my room in my bed-- I'm in someone else's. The traditions aren't the same. When I go to the common room I don't see the faces I expect to see. I imagine it should be somewhat similar for you, but at least you don't feel like you're filling in for someone. Have you gotten used to the changes Hermione?"

"Not so much. I'm still always on my guard and I've yet to venture further into the dungeons than I have to. I know I should. I remember what the gossip mongers said on the train, but for the most part none of the other students look like they're messed with. By now I'm pretty good at pinpointing who the likely targets of cruel jokes are, but nothing more than the occasional random jinx or hex has occurred." Picking up her pumpkin juice she sipped from it thoughtfully.

It had been awfully quiet as of late. Ever since the last of her confiscations two weeks ago there had been no further incidents. It could be that the professors' experiment had worked. With the imposed intermingling going on between students of different houses harmony could be spreading…Hermione snorted. Rolling her eyes she promptly turned off the optimist switch in her psyche and locked all optimistic thoughts in a closet deep within her mind and threw away the key. It had been too quiet. The Head Girl knew it now just as surely as she had the other day when Draco and her had had their first little heart to heart. Had it really only been yesterday? It seemed like longer. A lot had happened in less than twenty-four hours.

The only thing was, she wasn't sure that it was Draco that was behind it. By all rights he should be too busy with whatever cockamamie scheme Voldie was thinking up and not lowering himself to tormenting younger mudbloods. But then again Harry and Ron had plenty of work to do for the Order and yet they still managed to get themselves, usually dragging her along with them, in to trouble. She made a silent vow to check the dungeons out that night. Maybe she'd ask Ron to go with her. As a prefect the only other students with more power than he was her or Ernie. The thought of Ernie being anywhere near the dungeons when he didn't have to be had her snorting again. The other prefects couldn't take points from him and as far as magical capability went he'd do.

"What about Malfoy? Has he given you any trouble, Hermione?" Harry queried eying his friend as she put down her glass of juice. Nibbling on a piece of bacon that Ginny was feeding him he searched his friend's face looking for signs of non-school related stress. "I've kept my bracelet on 24/7 just in case. Ron and I have taken to sleeping with our wands under our pillows should there be a late night summons."

Tracing the fork in her mouth with her tongue she took a moment to ponder the question. What about Malfoy? Should she relate their late night/early morning clandestine meetings? Perhaps it would be better to let sleeping dogs lie. What good would come of telling the Boy Who Lived that Lucius's son was a death eater and that he had flaunted the fact that he could beat and rape her? Yeah, cause that would go over _real_ well. Removing the utensil she answered as nonchalantly as possible, "Malfoy has been Malfoy with all of his typical ferrety behavior." Silently she added, "And not so ferrety behavior."

Sighing at the arch look her friend gave her she elaborated, "I've gotten the usual dirty looks, uncouth comments, and pompous threats about what his father would do when he heard such and such. Honestly, nothing I cannot handle." Editing out any of their interactions that either of the other two members of the Golden Trio could contrive as threatening had the added bonus of her not dieing of embarrassment should they find out that Malfoy had seen her in her lingerie. Their reproachful comments about not wearing her bracelet at all times would only make their arguments why she shouldn't participate in the Order's more dangerous missions all that much more vehement.

The bells tolled the hour snapping Hermione out of her thoughts. Next to her Ron moaned and shoved as much egg on toast into his mouth a possible. Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed his books before helping Ginny from the table. Smiling at her two friends Hermione followed them out of the hall leaving Ron to catch up as he quickly wiped the dribbles of pumpkin juice dripping down his chin. It was off to DADA with the Slytherins.

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The defense against the dark arts classroom was the biggest classroom at Hogwarts. The open vaulted ceiling made the room appear much taller than its two stories. The length of the room was easily the full wingspan of six hippogriffs and should the thestrals wish to bunk down in the room three of them would be able to lie comfortably with their necks and tails stretched to the max and still have an inch or two to spare. Bookshelves lined the length of the room and at the back, on either side and between the two doors, were trunks so layered in dust it was proof that they hadn't been opened in decades.. The front of the room sported a staircase that led into the professor's office, in front of which stood a podium and black board. The musky smell of books long left closed and chalkboard dust mixed with the scent of scorched wood from spells gone awry to make a scent unique to the room.

Generally the middle of the room was filled with five rows and six columns of desks with a aisle in the middle. Today all the desks were shoved haphazardly against the bookshelves. That of course could only mean one thing.

They were going duel.

A smirk graced the elegant face of Draco Malfoy. The cocky twist of his lips brought out his dimples and gave his cheekbones the appearance of being razor sharp. His eyes glittered at the thought of a challenge and the extra swagger he put in his step left no one in doubt of his confidence. Reaching into his robe pocket he withdrew his wand and began to expertly twirl it around in dizzying patterns only someone much accustomed to handling their wand could accomplish. The dark wood slipped and slid around his fingers like an experienced lover's caress.

Slate gray eyes roved the crowd that had gathered in the room to see who else deducted what today's lesson would feature. An annoyingly familiar lightning shaped scar caught his gaze. The Slytherin Prince's perceptive gaze slid from the messy hair of the Boy Who Lived to meet his glaring eyes. Eyes the color of moss glowed in challenged and with a sardonic nod of his head Draco accepted. Today he would put Potter in his place. Even after four years his pride still stung at his defeat to the bloody wanker in front of the whole damn school during the chamber of secrets fiasco. He had won against Potter on sparring days and during the club bouts, but today Draco wanted to thoroughly trounce the leader of the Golden Trio.

Potter's mouth opened to spew forth some inane garbage, he was sure, when Snape swept into the room and called the class to attention. Long accustomed to Snape's nasally whine Draco easily tuned him out and continued to survey the room. He knew from experience how the line up would go.

The room allowed fifteen dueling pairs, thirty students, to line up and face off with each other while still allowing about five feet between the dueler next to them. Twenty feet between opponents allowed plenty of room for the spells to be cast and the intended victim to counter. At the front of the room and nearest Snape's watchful eye would be the poorest of the spell casters, ilk the likes of Longbottom, Crabbe and Goyle. Not unsurprisingly, they were the ones in the most danger to the other students. Those who could not control their magic's and whom couldn't defend against others were always under Snape's hawk like gaze.

At the far end would be witches and wizards with a modicum of talent like Milicent Bulstrode and the Patil girl.

The very middle of the room was reserved for those with real talent. That, of course, would be his place. Oh, yes he knew how it would play out. He would be in the middle with Pansy on his right and Zabini on his left. Across from him would be scar head who in turn would be flanked by weasel-bee and the know-it-all. Fire sang through his veins at the prospect of the duel to come. There were three outcomes to dueling days.

Should Pansy win against Granger he could look forward to a right nasty shag that night.

Should Zabini win against Weasely he could look forward to a night of getting pissed drunk off of nicked butterbeer.

And should he win. He could look forward to a right nasty shag with Pansy followed by a butterbeer chug a thon with Zabini.

Life was looking bloody well brilliant right about now. Curling his tongue between his teeth he gave Pansy a lusty leer and the girl blushed as if she knew _exactly_ what he was thinking. Fuck, he was starting to get hard already and the duel hadn't even started yet.

As soon as Snape's lips closed the room morphed into action. The routine was so instilled in them by now that all thirty students were lined up and rearing to go within a minute and thirty seconds. True to form Potter's eyes locked onto his with a sneer firmly in place. Pansy was enchanted with her fingernails while Hermione tapped her foot impatiently across from her. Weasely puffed up his chest and tried to stare down the taller and more muscular Blaise. Some things in life were so predictable.

His eyes slid back over to Granger whose wand was keeping beat against her thigh to a tune only she could her. To the average eye she looked a little apprehensive, but Draco knew better. She wasn't apprehensive, she was eager. The mudblood excelled at wand magic. Potter might be a natural, but Hermione was a genius. Her complex spells could even give his father a run for his money. A mudblood she might be, but if he was going to be at all honest with himself she was the brightest witch of her age. If she wasn't there would be no reason why she was on the Death Eater's top ten list of most wanted dead. It wasn't because she was friends with Potter or because she made up the Golden Trio either as Weasely wasn't on that list. No, Granger was on that list because she earned it. Her daring and tenacity never failed to show when facing down a death eater.

She turned her head slightly and her mocha orbs bored into his. He leveled his hardest glare at her, but she didn't turn meekly away like he expected her to after last night's rendezvous. She snorted instead and rolled her eyes before turning her gaze to her opponent and ignoring him all together.

His eyebrows creased. His lips turned down at the edge. His nostrils flared. His teeth gritted. How _dare_ that third rate witch turn her back on him?!? _Him! _ A Malfoy. A pureblooded wizard that was twice as good as her on his worst days. The arrogance. The conceit! His fingers closed tightly about his wand and the color drained from his knuckles. His mouth opened to deliver a scathing dressing down, but Snape coming into his peripheral vision had him snapping his jaw closed. Ever since the faculty's little foray into match making they all had been coming down much harder on the students and what Draco could have gotten away with first or even fifth year would not be tolerated this year.

Snape stalked down the rows of students taking note of whom was facing off against whom. When he neared the golden trio and their opponents he stopped. The air was practically crackling with tension and pent up energy ready to be unleashed. It was a disaster just begging to happen. "I think we're going to change it up a bit today. Miss Granger switch places with Mr. Weasley. Mr. Zabini switch with Mr. Malfoy."

Twin looks of irritation passed over Draco's and Potter's faces when they realized their plot to do the other some serious damage had been foiled. Draco eyed his new opponent up and down and a cocky smirk twisted his handsome features into a leer when he noticed Granger stiffen at his appraisal. Good. Let the little bitch be on edge. He may not be able to inflict damage with his razor sharp tongue like he had intended to a moment before, but this would be better. Public humiliation was a sweet sweet thing.

"I must say I am rather insulted. I had hoped for a challenge. There's hardly any thrill in putting a mudblood in their place, but I suppose I shall have to make do with what I get. Do try to last more than five minutes Granger." Draco knew that the derogatory tone of voice grated on her nerves much like nails on a chalkboard did his.

Gritting her teeth she replied, "It's not my stamina I'd be worried about Malfoy. I just hope you can keep up." Her eyes landed pointedly on the slight bulge in his trousers.

A slight flush tinted his cheeks when he realized where Granger's gaze had lingered. What a coy little bitch. He loved exchanging barbs with her. He wouldn't admit it out loud to anyone and not even Voldemort would be able to Legilemens it out of him, but he felt a certain thrill going head to head with her intellect. Her insinuations and innuendos were quite the match of his and infinitely more entertaining that anything Potter or his little sidekick could come up with.

"Don't you worry that frizzy little head of yours, pet. I can go _all night long." _So saying he thrust his hips forward, his trousers tightening against his hips and outlining more of his manly bits.

To the muggleborn's credit she didn't blush or even flinch, instead she merely scoffed and rolled her eyes once again. This time she didn't turn away from him. Snape had finished his inspection of the dueling pairs and had long since returned to the front.

"You've all dueled one on one before, but few of you have ever dueled in a setting realistically like that of a battlefield." Beady black eyes bored into the eyes of the D.A. members whom had fought against the death eaters in the Department of Mysteries and those who had stayed and fought off the rampaging death eaters whom had infiltrated the school the previous year.

"Today there will be no barrier between duelers, meaning not only will you have to be watchful of the magics coming from the witch or wizard across from you, but also those surrounding you. If you're hit with a spell you're out and must sit on the sidelines. If your opponent is hit you move down the line until you come to another opponent. The winner is the last witch or wizard standing." Snape stepped back and wrapped his cloak protectively around his body. He looked rather like a vampire. Snapping his head in a brisk nod he gave the go ahead to start. In unison the students clicked their legs together and brought their wands in front of their faces vertically. After a brief nod they stepped back with their left leg and raised their wand arm in the air. Their wand tips pointed at each other and their free hands were held either above their heads or behind their backs mirroring the traditional fencer's stance. They waited three breaths before nodding once more and then…

Voices plunged the room into a noisy din so loud that you had to struggle to hear your own spells. It looked like a kaleidoscope had burst wide open and hovered endlessly in the air. The smell of scorched wood as fire spells were repelled into the floor wafted about the room. A small haze of smoke covered the floor hindering peoples view of their feet. It was a cacophony of chaos.

Draco wiped his eyes free of the stinging that some small tendrils of lazy smoke created when they rose to eye level. His gaze darted about the room keeping a wary eye out for loose spells, but his gaze wasn't ever long off of Granger. Mudblood she might be, but terrible she was not. She was easily a close second to Potter. What she lacked in raw power she made up for in creativity. A smirk twisted his lips and his eyes blazed in lust. The high he got from being pitted against a worthy adversary never failed to get all his juices going. Across from him he could tell that Hermione was getting off on it as well.

Her chest heaved from the exertion of fighting off his advances. They were damn near evenly matched. He was stronger, but she was faster. He whipped his wand about hurling spells at her. All of which she averted from hitting her body with a shielding spell. She sent curses and hexes back at him but instead of aiming them straight at his chest she aimed them at his feet making him have to physically dodge on occasion or even off to one side to try and throw him off by leaving one side open to attack. To a beginner's eye it looked as if she had poor aim and couldn't control where her spells went, but to a witch or wizard who had experience she was a perfect shot.

Within fifteen minutes of the start of the match they were down to two pairs. Hermione and Draco and Potter and Zabini. All were beginning to tire. None had held back. Their chests heaved and their wand arms were starting to droop. Harry's glasses were askew on his nose and Zabini's once perfectly coiffed hair looked like it had been done by a three year old. Hermione's hair had come loose from its ponytail and tumbled about her shoulders giving her a dangerous yet erotic look. Draco's eyes were a blazing silver inferno and there was no missing his obvious state of arousal.

None of the tiredness showed, but grim determination showed in their faces. None was going to back down and admit defeat. Draco caught Zabini's eye and they communicated with a look. Nodding in understanding Zabini stepped further away from Draco and closer to Potter.

The next minute Draco let loose a hex at Zabini. Potter stopped in mid curse and let his jaw drop. It was a mistake. At the last possible second Zabini muttered a mirroring spell and repelled Draco's attack to hit Potter squarely in the chest sending the Boy Who Lived crashing into the opposing wall. A smile of triumph lit up the dark skinned Blaise's face, but it was short lived. In the next second he found himself lying petrified on his feet a smirking Hermione Granger looking on.

Draco let loose a low growl in the back of his throat. He hadn't expected the mudblood to react so quickly and now his advantage had been lost. Someone pulled Zabini away from the battle zone and as a result only he and Granger were left standing. The rest of the students crowded around the room forming a circle around the last combatants.

Warily they began to circle each other. Sparks seemed to fly from the Slytherin Prince's eyes whenever he let loose with a curse. His mouth was set in a firm line of concentration, his lips pursed together and his cheeks were flushed with the thrill of the hunt.

Her eyes locked with his and didn't waver. Toffee warred with silver for supremacy. Her cheeks were also flushed with the adrenaline pumping throughout her body. Instead of pursing her lips like Draco's hers were slightly parted and every once in a while a pink tongue would dart out to wet them. The young woman's wand arm was a little shaky from the effort of keeping it at the ready for so long, but Hermione's hands were still, the wand gripped loosely in the tips of her fingers.

No one spoke. They just stared. There were no cheers for their fellow classmates. The air was so thick with tension anyone opening their mouths to comment closed it quickly for fear of choking on the atmosphere. Draco could practically hear his blood rushing in his veins like the roar of the ocean. Flicking his wrist he sent a curse whizzing towards the Gryffindor Princess's knees.

Without breaking eye contact Hermione jumped over the blast leaving the gathered students behind her to fend for themselves. Not wasting a moment she sent a silent hex right back at him watching as he deftly dispelled it with a spell of his own. Neither of them spoke. Where before they were speaking their spells aloud just so they could be sure themselves what they were casting they now dueled in silence.

In the whole of their seventh year there were only three people who were competent enough to cast a repertoire of silent spells. Granger, the male prefect for Ravenclaw, and Malfoy. For Draco being able to go head to head with another wizard as good as himself was an adrenaline rush. The fact that it was Granger that was giving him such a thrill made no difference to him. He licked his lips and glared at the witch who was staring him down, her eyes predatoryly trying to find a weakness. He saw her wrist twitch and instantly he sent a silent curse arcing towards her. He put the last of his energy into the spell hoping to overwhelm her shield and ultimately win the bout. Two feet in front of her and the spell came crashing up against an invisible barrier. At the instant of impact black smoke billowed out from the point where the two spells had met and completely blanketed the room obscuring the dueling pair from their audience.

A searing pain shot through his jaw and before he knew it Draco's feet were swept out from underneath him sending him careening towards the ground. There was no time to brace himself from the fall and the sickening crack he heard when his skull connected with the ancient wood sent his teeth to gnashing. In the next second a warm body was straddling his hips and his face was inches from Hermiones Granger's. Before he could push her off she had pinned the blonde's arms to his sides with a spell.

Hermione waited until she had eye contact with the Slytherin lying prone underneath her before bending down to whisper in his ear, "Don't ever underestimate me Draco. I can do anything you can do. In fact, anything you can do, I can do better." She sat back up and stared at him daring him to contradict her, daring him to challenge her.

He sneered at her and bucked his hips thrusting his erection against the apex of her thighs. "Anything, Granger?" was the leered response. The virile young man licked his lips in the most predatory way he could and then thrust against her again. He could tell she was turned on. The warmth seeping into him from where their bodies were touching was a sure sign her arousal. The heady scent escaping from her was making him harder than he thought possible especially considering it was a mudblood whose thighs were clasped tightly against his.

A slight widening of her eyes was the only sign of her slight discomfort. Her mouth opened to make some kind of retort but before a single syllable could slip past her lips Draco broke the spell binding his arms and grasped her waist. Deftly flipping them over he reversed their positions this time pinning her wrists above her head with one of his hands.

His face was so close he knew she could feel the whisper of his breath on her face when he taunted her, "It's you who shouldn't underestimate me, Granger. It's dangerous."

"I wouldn't dream of it Malfoy," she retorted and brought her head up to hit him squarely in the nose. Malfoy jerked back in surprise and anger at the sudden pain releasing her wrists in order to push himself away from the sneaky witch. Hermione had just managed to get to her feet when the smoke was suddenly cleared from the air and an irate professor Snape bore down on the two battling teenagers.

"Judging by the rapid swelling of Malfoy's nose I assume Granger resorted to physical attack? Am I right?" Beady black eyes stared unrelentingly at the Gryffindor prefect as if daring her to argue.

"Physical attack isn't against the rules Professor. You mentioned at the start of this that this exercise was to prepare us for the real world, and in the real world physical attacks are just as dangerous and just as likely to occur." Hermione countered daring Snape to find an err in her logic.

"I see that Potter's propensity to bend the rules has rubbed off onto those closest to him. How disappointing." The lack of inflection in Snape's voice did little to convince Hermione that Snape was in any way, shape, or form disappointed in her. In order for that to be the case he would have had to of held her in some kind of esteem and that was as likely as McGonagall calling Crabbe an intellectually gifted student. " Class dismissed."

Most of the students in the room broke into their usual cliques and headed for the door. Out of the corner of her eye Hermione could see Pansy simpering at Draco and fussing over him. From the exasperated look on his face he wasn't enjoying her mother henning, which was a far cry from the preening he had done third year after his run in with Buckbeak.

"Great job Hermione," Ron congratulated his friend while handing her an over-stuffed book bag.

"Thanks Ron. Did you win your bout?" She knew he hadn't, but it would have been rude not to ask. She shouldered her bag and headed towards the door with Harry and Ron in tow.

"Nope, but it was close. I'll win next time." There was a confidence in Ron's voice that hadn't been there when they had first entered Hogwarts and Hermione found herself smiling and proud of how far her friend had come. Ron continued, "That was a cheap shot from Zabini though, Harry."

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah, but what do you expected from kids who learned their tactics from Death Eaters. Besides, it's better that it happened here than out on the battle field when the hex would have been ten times worse."

Hermione's smile grew even wider. Harry had matured as well. There was a time in the not so distant past when her scarred friend would have had a row about the cheap tactic employed by their Slytherin classmates that would have lasted all week long. Now, the young man accepted it in stride and added it to his list of sneaky things to look out for. Her friends were truly growing. She no longer had to scaffold them like mothers scaffolded infants in their early years. It was a huge weight off her shoulders.

She waved good bye to her friends as she reached her destination and they went their separate ways. Advanced Ancient Runes was her favorite class and she was looking forward to the text they were going to translate today. She giggled slightly as she heard Ron's shout in excitement at something Harry had told him from down the hall. They were off to quidditch practice of course. She shook her head and opened the doors to her class room.

The room was a fourth of the size of the D.A.D.A. room. There were only ten people in the course so they hardly needed the room that the other class required. She made her way up to the front of the room and sat in the first row. From her bag she pulled a book twice as thick as a muggle Black's Law Dictionary, a white feathered quill with brown fading to black tips, a small pot of ink, and a roll of parchment that unfurled to be about two feet long. With almost reverent fingers she smoothed out the parchment pressing out the wrinkles until the parchment laid flat without turning up at the edges. Deft fingers flipped through the book until she reach pager 345.

Eager eyes roved over the symbols and her fingers itched to take up her quill and put to parchment the knowledge she deciphered. There was just something empowering about unraveling history's mysteries. Not that it was really a mystery to the whole world, just everyone outside the academia world of ancient runes, but that she was deciphering the philosophies of the ancients was a thrilling experience. Thus far in the semester they had translated works on economics, politics, and leadership, but by far the most fascinating to her was philosophy. Especially when the philosophers focused on ethics. She could lose herself for hours delving into the minds of some of the greatest thinkers in wizard history. How ironic was it that there was a great parallel between them and muggle philosophers? The wizarding world had its Aristotles, Kants, and Hobbses. The two peoples really were more similar than dissimilar.

An ache in her heart spread though her. This war was all because one group of people thought that they were superior to another group of people. How many muggle wars, insurgencies, and crusades were the cause of billions of deaths because one group thought themselves better? How many more were going to die? How many more were going to be raped, tortured, and/or driven to insanity? How fucking many more! A lone tear fought for escape. Her fists clenched and her shoulders were about to begin shaking. The Head Girl was about to lose it.

A creak at the back of the classroom had her stiffening in her chair. She had to get a hold of herself! This was not an appropriate place to break down. Anger only begets more anger after all. Taking in a deep, soothing breath, Hermione closed her chocolate orbs to the world and focused on emotions. After acknowledging to herself that she was upset and angry she focused her thoughts on positive, charitable things. Once she had tricked her body into releasing its tension she brought her attention to finding her center. It was something she had learned in her martial arts class.

To this day she could remember the lessen where the sensei had taught them to center. She had volunteered to be the guinea pig. The older man had had her stand in the front of the classroom and think of a conflict. Then he pushed lightly on her chest and she toppled backwards into his awaiting arm. Then he had taught her to find her center. When he had pushed again she hadn't moved. In fact he had told her that he had pushed her five times harder than he had the first time. She hadn't felt it at the time, but the next day she had had bruises on her breast bones where his fingers had been pressing.

Before every battle she went into she centered herself. Whenever she felt overwhelmed in the Order of the Phoenix meetings she centered herself. At every funeral she attended she centered herself. The outwardly strong and indestructible Gryffindor would have been broken long before now if not for that one technique.

Taking another deep breath, she imagined a glowing ball of energy lighting up the black behind her eyelids. With deliberate slowness she pictured herself embracing the orb with her hands and slowly caressing it into a more and more compact orb until it was about the size of a ping pong ball before finally pulling it into herself about two inches below her bellybutton. A warm sensation filled her body and she allowed herself to bask in the feeling of safety the warmth gave her. Her eyes opened a moment later and met those of the other occupant of the room.

Inquisitive eyes so dark they were almost black searched hers. The silence stretched on. Neither moved. There was something about Blaise Zabini that made her uncomfortable. What made that uncomfortable even worse was the knowledge that the type of discomfort was different than with others on the other side. It wasn't the bone chilling discomfort that Draco's father caused her. It wasn't the petrifying fear that came when she had seen the aftermath of the Dark Lord's and Dumbledore's fight at the ministry either. It was different even than the discomfort she felt when Draco was involved.

His essence screamed sex and allure. Virility and suaveness rolled into one entity. It was if when he undressed her with his eyes it wasn't just her clothes he was taking off. It was almost as if he was peeling back her layers until he could discern her true self. It left her feeling discombobulated and she didn't appreciate it. His perceptivity was truly something to reckon with. He didn't need legilemens. She wondered how many truths he had coaxed out of people with his penetrating gaze?

The door creaking open once again broke their staring contest and Hermione let out an internal sigh of relief. The feeling was only short lived however, as she felt eyes boring into the back of her skull. She refused to turn around. The head girl knew who it was. It was the same person that had been trying to fry her alive with his gaze at breakfast. She was proved right when a moment later Draco sat down next to his housemate. Thankfully they engaged each other in conversation and left her alone. One of them she could handle, but she wasn't sure how she would make out against two of them at once.

A scant three minutes passed before the room was finally filled and the professor arrived, but it felt like eternity that she was left alone in the room with the two Slytherins. The Gryffindor princess wasn't sure how the two would react to their recent defeat at her hands. It was a well know fact that the two of them had an overabundance of pride and that when it was injured few were safe from their wrath. While, she wasn't afraid of them per say, she didn't exactly relish an ugly encounter with them either. Outside on the battlefields with her comrades dying around her was different. Out their she could smell blood, hear screams of pain and grief, and taste the saltiness of her tears. She could feel the tension like a thick blanket that threatened to cover her in its weight and bog her down. On the battlefield it was kill or be killed. There were few instances when one could show mercy to the enemy. She learned from first hand experience the dangers benevolence on the battlefield.

The battlefield was one thing, but how much harm could she inflict on school grounds? When the death eaters had swarmed Hogwarts and attacked the place it had felt like a violation to engage in warfare activities. The school was on hollowed ground as far as she was concerned. This was place where people were suppose to feel safe and the thought of destroying that sanctity with blood and violence left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She wasn't sure to what lengths she would go to in order to defend herself. She was by no means suffering from self-importance. She knew that while her death would be mourned by those whom loved her, she was not replaced. The world would continue its path around the sun and life would go on. However, she couldn't help but wonder how much of a blow her death would be to the one man in the world that could bring about the downfall of Voldemort. Would he sink into a depression and be unable to fight for a period of time? Or would he fly off the handle and engage the Dark Lord in combat before he was ready for the challenge?

Harry had told her once that she and Ron were closer than family to him. She wasn't sure what she would do either of her parents were killed. Shaking her head to rid it of the troubling thoughts she finally came to the conclusion that if it ever came down to a them or me situation, it would definitely be the other person. She wasn't ready to leave this world and its occupants just yet. Therefore, for the next little while she would have to be wary of Draco and Blaise. She most definitely needed to avoid any more clandestine meetings between her and the Slytherin Prince.

Author's Notes: Happy day after Halloween! Thank you to all who've waited so patiently for this chapter. So after much waiting here is the next installment. I wanted to get it out earlier, but writer's block has been my constant companion for awhile. In fact this chapter isn't to my liking, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting even longer. Please let me know what you all think.

Disclaimer: The realm of Harry Potter belongs to J.K.R.


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